The Gift That Bonds Us
by NinjaRiderWriter
Summary: One last time, she only wanted to see her son one last time. Fifteen years since Cloudjumper took her away, Valka returns to Berk to see her son before leaving forever. But the son she left has grown up, and he's taken after her in more ways than one. For Hiccup, his life suddenly changes when he finds a mysterious dragon lady in the woods. Set during HtTYD. AU.
1. Returning to Berk

Valka knew that what she was doing was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong. She was doing something she had sworn to never do, for fifteen years she had held up her solemn oath, for fifteen years she lived in isolation. She swore to herself that she would never return to the small island that rested on the Meridian of Misery, twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing to Death. Berk, her home.

Or rather, her former home. She had grown up there, had fallen in love, had a beautiful son, but that had all changed during a dragon raid. When Cloudjumper, her beloved dragon companion, had taken her from her family for the sole purpose of belonging with him and his flock, the dragons that peacefully dwelled under the Alpha's care. Berk had never truly felt like a home, Valka had been an outcast amongst her people.

She remembered when she spoke her mind about the dragon situation, on how they shouldn't fight and kill dragons, but try to befriend them. Her peers had mocked her, thinking her heart too soft for a Viking, they saw her as some alienish dweller that lived among them. They ridiculed her; shot her bewildered glares that told her that she and her ideals weren't welcome. She had been loathed and thought of with contempt, all because she thought differently.

Valka, the only Viking ever who wouldn't, _couldn't_, kill a dragon.

Even Stoick, her beloved husband, had viewed her ideals as foolish and thought her naïve in the ways of the world. He claimed that dragons and Vikings were destined to clash, to kill one another until one side was finally extinct.

She remembered that raid so vividly; if she concentrated hard enough she could still smell the smoke and blood of that fateful night when dragons attacked the small village of Berk. The night she realized that she had been right, and her husband and peers were wrong.

Dragons could be befriended. Viking and dragon could coexist with one another. She had seen it when she had raced towards her home when she caught sight of a dragon, Cloudjumper, breaking into her son's nursery.

Hiccup…

Oh how he haunted her. Whenever she closed her eyes to sleep, she heard his giggling laughter, or his pained cries that echoed deep within her soul. Whenever she saw a dragon and their hatchlings, she thought of her own child, the child she had almost condemned to death. He had nearly died that night, when Cloudjumper had spewed fire from his mouth in self-defense when Stoick attacked him.

He and her husband could have died that night, all because she couldn't kill a dragon.

She couldn't because when she first meet the gaze of Cloudjumper, she had seen not a monstrous devil of the sky as Vikings thought him as, but a gentle, intelligent creature whose very soul reflected her own. He had been playing with Hiccup, rocking his wooden cradle with his claw in such a tender and gentle way it had made her pause in her approach. It was at that moment she realized that she had been right all along. It was proof to everything she believed.

She couldn't kill him. She could only watch in fascination as Cloudjumper turned to face her, his amber eyes so warm and gentle it made her instantly calm. She was mesmerized by him just as much as he was mesmerized by her. They were two halves of a soul, one human and the other dragon, who had finally connected to form one. She remembered how Cloudjumper had accidently cut Hiccup's chin when he had squirmed, she knew that he hadn't meant to and that he wasn't some bloodthirsty demon who feasted on the flesh of children, as some legends told.

She could only watch as the gentle Stormcutter hobbled closer to her, somehow smiling in a way that resembled a human. She could still remember holding out her hand, palm splayed, aching to touch his snout. She almost did.

But then her husband appeared with an axe in hand.

After that it was all a blur. Stoick leapt, Cloudjumper moved, Hiccup cried, fire spread, and suddenly she was in the air, held by Cloudjumper's claws as he flew away from Berk. She could still see Stoick rushing outside with Hiccup safely tucked in his massive arms, crying out to her.

She never saw Stoick or Hiccup again. She swore she never would. Vikings could never live peacefully with dragons, she had realized that when Stoick attacked Cloudjumper. But Valka had never truly been a Viking, and she changed that night when Cloudjumper brought her to his Nest on the sole reason of belonging with him and dragonkind. Stoick would be ashamed of her, if he discovered that she was alive and living with dragons, aiding them, protecting them and loving them. He would be so ashamed if he knew that his own wife sided with his mortal enemies.

And Hiccup… oh her sweet child.

He was the only bright light of her life on Berk, aside from Stoick. But Stoick had never truly understood her, for he never agreed with her ideals though he loved her with all his heart. Hiccup didn't understood that bitter feud between man and dragon, he was the only one who didn't see her as some odd outcast. Granted he had been a mere babe, but he had been her son, and though years have passed she still loved him as much as she did when she first held him in her arms. She had loved him –and still loved him- with all of her heart and being. He had been one of the few happy memories she had had on Berk.

He was the sole reason why Valka was now breaking her vow of never returning to Berk. She had to see her son. She didn't return for Stoick, though she still loved him, she didn't return to her companions and comrades of her youth, she returned only to see what had become of the babe she had left in the cradle.

No one would know. She would hide in the shadows of night, either on Cloudjumper's back or hiding away on the rooftops. They would never find out that she still lived. She just wanted a single glance, a single second to see her son.

What did he look like?

She had thought that over and over throughout the years of her isolation, each time seeing a different person. She mostly imagined him as a massive hulking boy, grown out of his infant frailty and had taken after his massive Viking father. She saw him as a hulking boy, easily taking after his father in size and girth, but he would have her eyes. Why wouldn't her son take after his father in size and personality? The world was cruel to those who lived in it, and the thought of her son taking after his Viking father, an experienced dragon killer, always cut at her deeply.

But sometimes she thought of him being like his mother, a kind and caring person, she loved those thoughts. It was most likely wrong but Valka could still dream of a small lean child with her green eyes full of care for those around him, a smart boy who had more brains than brawn, and someone who didn't take after his father but instead his mother. They were wistful thoughts and dreams, but Valka still thought them though she knew that she was most likely wrong.

She knew that Hiccup was most likely what she feared, a perfect Viking. His father was chief Stoick the Vast after all, why wouldn't the son take after the father? Why would he be anything like the mother who had abandoned him? Of all the things she had done, not taking Hiccup with her had been her greatest regret.

Oh how Valka wished she had held him in her arms when Cloudjumper snatched her away from her life as an outcast on Berk, she could have raised her son to love and cherish dragons, instead of learning to kill them.

She never would have been able to though, for Stoick had grabbed him and changed all their lives. Just like when Cloudjumper had grabbed her and taken her away. That night had changed everything.

It didn't matter now, for she and her son had gone their separate ways. She to care and protect the dragons she lived with, and he to most likely slay them.

By Odin that thought hurt her more than a battle axe ever could.

She had to see him.

She had to know.

Valka had to know what had happened to the son she had abandoned while he was still in the cradle.

Cloudjumper crooned lowly to her, still unhappy with her decision to return to her former home if only for one night. He knew her too well to not know that while Berk held her family, it was also home to bitter memories that were better left forgotten.

"I know, my friend," Valka sighed as she stroked his scarred crown, slender fingers tracing the scar that was left by Stoick's own axe from the night Cloudjumper had taken her away from Berk fifteen years ago. "But I just want one look, that's all I want. And after that we can fly home." She didn't mention how the thought of leaving her son and husband for a second time left a bitter and sour taste in her mouth. She didn't tell Cloudjumper though; she was already hurting him by returning to Berk even if only for a night.

As they flew through the night, Valka began to see familiar natural and man made landmarks that she hadn't seen for years. Valka leaned forward in anticipation, soon she would see Berk, soon she would see Stoick, and soon she would see her son.

She soon caught sight of the massive stone statues of angry looking Vikings clutching massive axes and swords, their open maws roaring bonfires that spread light into the darkness of night. Cloudjumper growled lowly as he looked at the village with thin pupils, showing his displeasure and Valka could easily see why and could even relate with her beloved dragon companion.

Berk was burning.

_The raids haven't stopped,_ Valka thought to herself as Cloudjumper glided closer towards the burning village like a silent wraith. _If anything, things are worse than ever._

She could only look on towards the burning village, the fire was so bright it contrasted against the night. She saw shadows of Vikings and dragons alike, locked in eternal combat with one another.

Though she had lived there for many years, Valka barely recognized the village of her childhood. The massive pillars of fire were still there as was the Great Hall, but the buildings themselves were unfamiliar to her.

_Old village, new buildings,_ she thought of the old Berkian proverb. Fighting against creatures who had the ability to breath fire in a wooden village meant that the majority of people knew how to rebuild houses faster than a dragon could burn one down.

The only house she recognized was her old one, Stoick's house. It stood against a hill-like cliff, proudly standing whilst those around it had fallen, like Stoick himself. Her heart twanged oddly when she gazed at the familiar landmark, remembering her days and nights living there with her husband and son. The small added room that Stoick and Gobber had created to be Hiccup's nursery was gone, most likely burnt to the ground by Cloudjumper's fire. But other than that, it was just the way she remembered it.

She could see firelight further up the mountain, she looked at it and recognized the shadowy outline of a small hut that was backed into the mountain. _They must have finally built Mildew his own home far away from the others, I wouldn't blame them,_ Valka thought to herself with no small amount of rancor as she remembered the bitter aging man, he had always hated her and her ideals. He had been one of the worst of the Vikings to speak against her and her unpopular opinions.

Cloudjumper slowly hovered above a home that wasn't burning; she silently slipped off of Cloudjumper's back and landed on the roof of the house without a sound. Her beloved companion glanced back at her, worry set in his amber eyes before he quickly flew away towards the woods. She silently crawled towards the edge of the roof, thankful that she had her mask on.

She had decided to wear what she wore to scare off any dragon trappers that dared capture her dragons. She wore armor made of hardened leather, a few scuff marks marred the darkened leather from her many fights with trappers, her carmine cape was torn at the edges, and her spiked mask that resembled the King's own likeliness hid her face from the world. The mask was smeared with a bright blue paint that matched the color of the sky she flew in, yellow bands wrapped around the spikes, the spikes themselves were modeled after the Alpha's spikes.

Valka watched from her perch as she saw Vikings running around like headless chickens, waving their sharpened weapons at anything with scales,

"Do _not_ let them escape!" She heard someone yell to a group of Vikings holding down a net that pinned several Deadly Nadders. Valka felt her heart stop as she recognized that voice, that terribly familiar voice. She leaned closer, holding her breath as she saw a massive Viking barrel through the chaos that littered Berk's narrow streets.

_Stoick…_ Valka thought to herself as she saw her husband for the first time in fifteen years, her heart pleading to race into his arms, to never leave her beloved ever again, to be his wife once again. Valka looked away, unable to look at the massive red-haired chieftain, suddenly ashamed that he believed her dead when she was very much alive.

_It's for the best_,she thought to herself with no small amount of sorrow. _It's better that he never knows the shame that I have brought him by siding with dragons… He and Hiccup nearly died that night, all because I couldn't kill Cloudjumper. Even now, I would never raise a blade to any dragon if I were to relive that night once again._

She followed her husband by leaping from rooftop from rooftop. The houses had always been built close to one another so it was hardly any feat to navigate throughout the burning village; she followed her husband like a silent shadow when in reality she was a ghost.

Valka crouched down low on another rooftop, pressed against the carved wooden dragon head as she saw a Monstrous Nightmare in a small clearing, burning away at one of the pillars with it's powerful flames.

She saw Stoick leap at the Monstrous Nightmare, literally beating it back with his massive fists. She winced at every hit, watching the dragon rear back it's head and fly away in both defeat and terror at the massive Viking who still held Valka's heart. _Oh Stoick… nothing has changed,_ she thought to herself heavily. _You haven't changed…_

She watched like a silent sentinel as the villagers of Berk swarmed the area where their chief was, but their attention wasn't on him but on the burning wooden pillar. She watched as the pillar finally fell as its foundation was burned away by the Nightmare's fire, and in its place stood a boy, who must have been hiding behind it.

She and the other villagers watched as the metal bowl that held the fire break off from the pillar and roll down the hill, crashing into carts and houses until it reached a group of Vikings struggling to hold a net against a small group of Nadders from flying away. To her joy they leapt out of the way and the dragons fled into the darkened sky.

She turned her attention back to the boy.

The boy was scrawny, skinny as a reed. When Stoick came up to him with a disappointed frown, the boy barely even reached the Chief's elbows. But his stature and height mattered little to Valka, for she instantly noticed his light auburn hair and his green eyes. _Her_ hair and eyes. She peered closer, as close as she could without showering herself, and saw the faint white scar on the boy's chin, right below his bottom lip.

Valka felt her heart stop as she took the boy in, the visage of a squalling babe overtaking the now almost grown boy. _Hiccup…_ Valka thought in awe and wonder, _my son._

She watched as Hiccup glanced around at the crowd of Vikings that surrounded him with unease, looking like a rabbit surrounded by wolves. The Vikings glared at him, their burning distrusting eyes so familiar to Valka, for they were the same eyes that had looked at her with such rancor, the baleful glares directed towards an outcast.

_Is he… just as I was?_ Valka thought to herself with dawning horror. The thought of her Hiccup going through what she herself had gone through made her heart clench in agony. Oh how she wished she could leap from her vantage point and knock every single one of those Vikings, Stoick included, with her staff and hug her son and tell him that everything was going to be alright.

But she couldn't do that. Not even she could take down twenty armed Vikings and husband and expect Hiccup to come rushing into her arms. She could only watch from afar with an aching heart full of burning frustration that she couldn't do anything without revealing herself.

She saw Hiccup mumble something, she saw anger burning in the eyes of the Vikings, she could hear the faint rumbling grumbles of resentment and anger, all directed towards her boy.

Stoick grabbed his son by the scruff of his neck, easily dragging him as though he weighed nothing, though in reality Hiccup's weight was perhaps as heavy as a newborn lamb. Valka could see the anger and disappointment in Stoick's brown eyes, hidden underneath the visage of chief.

"It's not like the last few times, dad!" Hiccup was trying, and failing, to tell his father as he dragged him through the crowd of angry Vikings. "I mean I actually hit it. You guys were busy and I had a very clear shot. It went down just by Raven's Point, let's get a search party out there before-"

"_Stop!"_

Stoick roared at his son, releasing his grip as Hiccup stared up at him with wide eyes. Valka watched on from the rooftop, struggling with herself to stay where she was.

"Just. Stop." Stoick's voice lowered from that of a shout of anger to a weary, frustrated sigh. "Every time you step outside, disaster follows!" He gestured wildly towards the ruined carts and burning houses that had been destroyed by the bowl of fire. "Do you not see that I have bigger problems? Winter is almost here and I have an entire village to feed!"

Hiccup glanced around at the massive Vikings that had followed them, their baleful glares burning into his back. "Well between you and me, the village could do with a little less feeding, don't you think?" Hiccup asked as he glanced around at the surrounding Vikings, who grumbled at his words while some placed their hands on their bulging guts self-consciously.

"This isn't a joke, Hiccup!" Stoick said to him angrily, before sighing wearily yet again before he rounded on his only child, "Why can't you follow the simplest of orders?"

"I-I can't stop myself," Valka's son stuttered out, "I see a dragon and I have to just-" Hiccup made a strangling gesture with his small child-like hands, "Kill it, ya know? It's who I am, dad."

Stoick placed a hand against his temple, as though trying to stave off the oncoming headache. "Oh you are many things, Hiccup… But a dragon killer is not one of them. Get back to the house. Make sure he gets there," he told a hulking blonde Viking missing a leg and arm who lightly smack the boy upside the head before herding him towards the house Valka herself had once lived in. _Gobber,_ Valka realized.

Valka watched the interaction between father and son silently, her heart felt lighter than it had in years, as though some unearthly burden had been lifted from her shoulders. Her son wasn't a dragon killer, her husband said so himself,

She should leave; she had already been on this island long enough. Dawn had slowly crept to them, the sun starting to rise. She had seen her son; she knew that he wasn't a killer of dragons. She should leave.

But yet she couldn't move.

She could only stare, as though mesmerized, as she watched her son slowly walk towards home, his shoulders hunched and his posture defeated. The crowd of Vikings parted away from him as though he carried the plague. Their eyes filled with rancor, those hauntingly familiar eyes.

She noticed that a group of Viking children around her son's age were laughing at him, mocking him for messing up. Anger bubbled within her, the emotion was so strong she saw only a field of crimson, her fingers clenched around her staff.

Hiccup wasn't like his father in the slightest, in both stature and mentality. He was small and thin instead of massive and muscular. He claimed he wished to kill dragons, but Valka saw through that desperate façade, for she recognized what he was trying to do. He pretended to be something that he wasn't, just so that he wouldn't be alone anymore.

Stoick said he wasn't a dragon killer, and she knew that to be true, she just had to look in his eyes. Hiccup tried so hard to fit in with those who weren't like him, trying so hard to blend into the crowd instead of sticking out like a Monstrous Nightmare amongst a herd of grazing sheep. He wanted to be accepted, to be respected, to be loved.

Valka had wished for that once, a long time ago.

She had sworn that she would never return to Berk, but yet here she was, hidden but still there like a silent shadow. She had sworn to return to the Sanctuary after she had seen her son one last time. But she couldn't return, not yet anyway.

She would never let Berk know that she still lived, that she did not feast in the Halls of Valhalla, but still lived in the world of man and dragon. She would never live in this village again. But her son… the son she had abandoned in the cradle, the son who took his mother's title as Village Outcast, the son who was not like his Viking father in the slightest regard, the son who might take after his mother.

_I can't leave,_ Valka realized suddenly, _not yet at least._

She would try and help her son, whether or not she showed himself to him, either as a random woman or the mother he thought dead, she did not know.

All she knew was that for fifteen years when she lived in isolation, her son had needed her and she hadn't been there for him.

She was there for him now.

* * *

><p>Hiccup felt completely and utterly humiliated as he slowly trudged back towards his empty house with Gobber at his heels, the taunts of Snoutlout still ringing in his head. Nobody believed him that he had shot down a Night Fury, when he really did! Sure nobody saw him do it, but Hiccup had heard the screech and watched as the dark body shot towards the ground like a falling star, he <em>had<em> shot down the Night Fury and he would prove it… after he ditched Gobber, of course.

Unfortunately, the one handed smith didn't seem to be going anywhere. Gobber was probably one of the few people who actually tolerated him, Hiccup counted the Viking as his friend, though that was mostly because Hiccup didn't have friends and thus would count anyone who talked to him without insulting him as his friend.

"Now its not so much what you look like, it's what's _inside_ that he can't stand," Gobber explained as he poked the boy in the chest to emphasis his point, his small nudge nearly sent the boy sprawling to his feet.

"Thank you, for summing that up," Hiccup said dryly as he turned around to enter his empty home.

"The thing is," Gobber spoke again and the son of Stoick listened. "Stop trying so hard to be something you're not."

Hiccup wouldn't deny that Gobber's statement hurt him even more than his statement that Hiccup's father couldn't stand him and who he was. Didn't Gobber see that Hiccup was trying to be one of them? He could never stop at it, not until he was finally accepted and, well, appreciated for once in his life. For one day, even if only for that day, he would have loved to be known as just Hiccup, an everyday buff Viking warrior, son of Stoick the Vast, instead of Hiccup the Useless, Stoick the Vast's talking fishbone of a son. "I just want to be one of you guys," he whispered out, hurt evident as he quickly retreated to the safety of his home, quietly closing the door in Gobber's sad face.

Hiccup waited for several moments, leaning against the aged wooden door with a heart as heavy as lead. The house was empty and dark, his father wouldn't be back for several hours, and it wasn't as though there was anyone else living here with them, as Hiccup's mother had died when he was little.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, Hiccup peeked out the window to see that Gobber was gone. He suddenly saw something move. Peering up at the rooftops, he saw what appeared to be a figure crouched on the roof, he blinked and rubbed his eyes for several moments before looking back, nobody was there.

Thinking that he was seeing things, Hiccup quickly crossed through the threshold towards the back door, grabbing one of his father's knives from the table as he did so.

Hiccup threw open the door and raced towards the woods, with only one thought in mind. In his haste the son of Stoick the Vast never noticed an armored figure watching him from atop of a branch on a pine tree, watching him like a silent sentinel.

Hiccup had taken down a Night Fury and he was going to prove it.


	2. The Night Fury

Valka followed her son carefully through the woods, leaping from tree limb to tree limb so silent and quick it was as though Valka did not leap, but rather flew from limb to limb. She had spent much of her life leaping from one dragon to the next whilst they flew, tree branches was something she could handle easily. She leapt from one branch to another without a sound, not even the leaves shook as she moved.

Her son wandered the forest for hours, nose tucked into a small leather book and too focused on searching for the dragon he had supposedly shot down. Valka had heard his annoyed mumbles turn into frustrated screams by the time the sun had reached its climax. He was too focused on finding any sign of dragon on the ground that he never thought to actually look up and realize that someone had been following him like a silent shadow – or rather ghost- since he had left the house.

She could see from her vantage point the scowl on her son's face, how his nose scrunched up and his lips curling as though he smelled something foul. Her son had begun to run out of patience; though Valka had to commend her boy as any other Viking would have given up long before Hiccup. Vikings were impatient and blunt; patience wasn't in their limited vocabulary. But yet here Hiccup was after several fruitless hours of scouring the forest.

Her son had wandered the woods, tripping on practically everything in a less than graceful way that only helped emphasis the awkward stage that he was going through, where he was no longer a boy but wasn't yet a man. He was still growing, though slower than his age mates, and with his gangly limbs he moved as though he lacked balance.

Valka suddenly paused from her leaping, perched against a pine whose thick needles hid her from her son's view. She saw a destroyed tree that looked as though it had been ripped apart. _Or something crashed into it,_ Valka realized with a frown. Her son had been mumbling to himself about trying to find the Night Fury he had shot down and Valka had been silently praying to Odin that her son was mistaken. She couldn't bare the thought of her son killing a dragon.

She could see a thick rut ahead of her, though Hiccup couldn't see it from his position on the ground. And beyond that, something large and dark was at the center of a small crater. She knew that it was the Night Fury, for what else could it be?

"Oh, the gods hate me. Some people lose their knife, or their mug. No, not me. I manage to lose an _entire dragon!"_ Hiccup was bemoaning to himself, still unaware that his quarry was literally right in front of him. The boy, in a fit of angry frustration, smacked a protruding branch away from his face, which of course made the branch whip back around and strike him in the eye.

Cursing under his breath, Hiccup glanced at the branch and realized that the entire tree had been ripped in half. He paused in his wandering, alert with a certain edginess as he gazed around at the foliage on the ground, never once did he look above him. He immediately noticed the massive rut that went down a slope. He followed the trail and paused when he saw something huge with black wings right before him. He ducked under a rock in fright, before his curiousness won the internal battle within him and he peeked despite himself. He grabbed the knife from within his fur tunic and held it shakily with both hands.

Valka watched with bated breath as her son slowly stalked towards the downed Night Fury. A_ Night Fury_! She had never seen one before, though she knew of them. He was beautiful, though he was bound in rope.

She saw the knife in her son's clenched hand, a knife that looked too big for her son's small hands, a knife didn't belong in her boy's hands as he walked towards a downed dragon.

She was glad that Cloudjumper wasn't with her, for it would have been impossible to hide in the trees when the Stormcutter was so large, Hiccup would have seen them immediately, so only she watched her son from her perch on a tree, staff in hand, waiting and watching.

If Hiccup attempted to kill the Night Fury, she would pounce on him and knock him out with her staff. The thought of hurting her child tore at her, but the thought of her child killing a dragon hurt even more. _Please Hiccup…_ She silently pleaded to her son, watching him move forward with the knife with wide eyes hidden behind her mask. _Please take after me and not your father… Don't be a Viking… Be who you are meant to be._

A low roar brought her back to the present. Hiccup, in a moment of glory, had placed his foot on the Night Fury's side, thinking it dead. Her son fell back against a protruding boulder, knife clenched in his hand as the Night Fury stirred from it's slumber.

Hiccup slowly advanced forward, knife tip pointed towards the bound dragon. He felt fear burn at him, but the thought of returning to the village with the promise of a better life was too enticing for him to run away. He had to kill the Night Fury. He would be the first Viking to ever do so, if he killed it than everything would get better! Right?

The son of Stoick the Vast gazed at the dragon he himself had brought down. The dragon was nothing like the boy had ever seen before. it wasn't like a Gronckle, or a Hideous Zippleback, or even a Monstrous Nightmare. The Night Fury was different from all the other dragons that raided his village, where most were large and riddled with horns, the Night Fury was small with darkened flesh molding into patches of midnight scales.

He stared at though mesmerized. His heart leapt to his throat when he realized that he wasn't the only one. A lone green eye, so detailed it looked as though a fiery green inferno had been unleashed inside, stared at him in an unblinking gaze, it's pupil a mere slit. He stood there, knife in hand ready to strike and didn't know what to do.

_I can't back out now,_ Hiccup thought to himself as he fiddled with the knife nervously. _If I don't kill it, I'll never be welcome at Berk._ That thought, the thought of his eternal suffering of isolation and ridicule continuing, gave him strength. No more would the villagers look at him as though he was an annoying pest, no longer would his father look at him with that disappointed scowl, no longer would he be ignored and mocked by his age-mates, for he, Hiccup the Useless, would be the first Viking to ever slay a Night Fury.

If he killed this dragon than it would solve _everything_.

He breathed in heavily, gulping for air as though it would give him the strength to stab the dragon's heart. "I'm going to kill you dragon," he whispered at the downed beast, fire ignited in the human's eyes with a sharp determination to end, not only the dragon's life, but his life as a social outcast. "I'm gonna… I'm gonna cut out your heart and take it to my father…" he held the knife in both hands, held above his head, waiting to be plunged into the Night Fury's heart.

Above him, Valka tensed with her staff held at the ready, ready to stop her son from killing the downed dragon, from making the greatest mistake in his life.

"I'm a Viking…" Hiccup whispered, as though praying. The thought of what that word, Viking, meant made Hiccup falter, for he knew that he was the most unViking Viking to have ever walked Berk. He pushed it aside, bitter resentment already building within him at the previous thought.

"I am a _Viking_!" Hiccup declared to the world, trying to feel proud and strong, but all he felt was weak and terrified. He clenched his eyes shut, as though to blind himself from what he was about to do, but he couldn't help but peek at the Night Fury. The dragon was staring at him with an unblinking eye, it's pupil a mere slit as it continued to stare at the petrified boy who held the knife high above his head.

The Night Fury groaned out another roar, his lone eye never leaving the shaking form of Hiccup. The supposed Viking looked at the dragon's eye, he didn't see any monstrous fury of being bested by a talking fishbone who couldn't lift a hammer or swing an axe, he didn't see any animalistic emotion that made the dragon a monster.

All he saw was terror.

The Night Fury was terrified, of _him._ Hiccup looked at the dragon and saw not the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death, but a creature that looked so terrified it reminded the boy of one thing.

Himself.

Hiccup was terrified to plunge the knife into the Night Fury's heart, terrified to take a life, terrified to become what he wasn't, a Viking. But he was also terrified of not being a Viking, something that everyone wanted him to be but he could never achieve no matter how hard he tried. He was terrified of his life of loneliness and ridicule, a life of isolation. All he had ever known was terror, from the very beast that laid there defeated before him to his own people, who hated him with passionate fury.

All his life, Hiccup had been terrified.

And now here was another creature trapped by his ropes like Hiccup was trapped on Berk. Hiccup's ropes trapped the Night Fury whilst the boy himself was trapped by the impossible expectations from his father and his people. The Night Fury was just as trapped as he was.

He couldn't do it.

He _wouldn't_ do it.

He lowered his knife, sickened at the thought of killing this terrified creature lying before him bound in ropes placed by Hiccup himself with his bola launcher.

"I did this," Hiccup said to himself softly with dreadful horror, stepping away from the bound dragon with his knife now pointed away from the dragon. That familiar feel of terror washed over him when he realized that he wasn't and never would be what he should have been, a Viking, along with a powerful wave of sickness at the thought of actually killing the dragon.

He turned away, ready to flee to the safety of his empty home where nobody could continue to hurt him, but the heavy breaths of the Night Fury made him freeze in place, body half turned in the direction of home. He slowly turned around, looking at the bound dragon with horrible guilt.

He couldn't leave the dragon like this, trapped in the woods filled with Vikings who would be more than willing to slit the dragon's throat and rip out it's heart for a trophy. Had anyone else besides Hiccup found the dragon, they would have killed it without a second thought. Yet it was Hiccup who stood before the beast, sickened at the thought of dragon blood being spilt by his own hand, the knife in his hand as useless as the villagers thought him to be.

_It shouldn't be too hard to cut,_ Hiccup thought to himself as he glanced at the rope that was tangled all over the Night Fury's lithe form. _Surely that's something I can do… I can let it go, at least than one of us will be free._

Hiccup quickly knelt by the dragon's side and started to furiously saw at the rope, the sharpened knife quickly cut through the rope and Hiccup began to cut away at the ropes that tied the dragon's legs and wings. He finally sliced through the last rope.

And suddenly all Hiccup saw was black as he was pinned to the boulder by a large paw. Gasping in terror, Hiccup looked up to see the deadly eyes of the Night Fury burning into him like dragon fire, he was trapped, paralyzed by it's fiery gaze.

_This is it,_ Hiccup thought to himself as he saw the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death rear back it's head to shoot the puny human with it's plasma bolt. _This is how I die…_

Would his father mourn him? Maybe. Would the villagers mourn him? Probably not. Nobody in the village liked him; to them he was just a nuisance and a troublemaker. Nobody would miss him and that thought hurt the ostracized boy more than anything. Hiccup could only stare death in the face, mesmerized by the dragon's green eyes that stared into him with such intelligence it unnerved him, to realize that this beast was not truly a beast, but something greater. Hiccup looked at death in the face and found himself relaxing despite the pressure against his throat. Maybe if he died, his father could finally stop being so embarrassed of the village's runt, _his_ runt. The villagers would most likely throw a party to celebrate the fact that he wasn't there anymore to mess up. The thought saddened him, but it didn't hurt as much as it should have. Hiccup looked the dragon in the eye and felt only acceptance of his fate.

Hiccup closed his eyes, waiting for the eternal darkness. Would he see his mother after fifteen years of separation? Was she waiting for him in the entrance of the Halls of Valhalla, waiting to hug and kiss him and shower him with motherly affection that she had once given him when he had been a babe and she was still alive? Hiccup liked to think so. Hiccup waited for death.

But it didn't come.

There was a sudden noise, reminiscent to a rattle shaking. Hiccup opened his eyes. The Night Fury paused as it listened to the noise, relaxing at the sound, it's thin pupils dilating rapidly as it glanced around the forest. The Night Fury released him and Hiccup collapsed to the ground, choking out gasping breaths for much needed air.

When he felt like his lungs weren't about to collapse upon themselves, Hiccup looked up fearfully and blinked at what he saw.

The Night Fury was still there, but the Unholy Offspring of Lighting and Death itself didn't look threatening in the slightest, for the dragon sat on it's hindquarters, eyes fixated on a figure, it's curious and gentle expression reminded the boy of a curious cat.

_Wait, what?_

Hiccup blinked again, realizing that what he saw wasn't a hallucination from lack of oxygen. There was a person in the clearing with him.

The figure was tall, though nowhere as tall as his father, but slim like Hiccup himself. From the way the figure looked, Hiccup saw that the figure was female. Her choice in outfits made him question her sanity though. The figure was decked in hardened leather armor, each individual piece reminiscent of dragon scales, a ripped carmine cape blew softly at a gentle breeze, her mask terrified him, for it was rather akin to some monstrous dragon with its sharp, protruding spikes and bright paint savagely spread across it in a messy, almost savage smear. In her hand was a painted shield and a wooden staff, both ends curved and had rattles on each end. She was shaking the staff ever so lightly, creating more rattle sounds, the noise made him slightly drowsy.

The Night Fury was watching her, entranced by the sound. It's hackles had lowered, and the dragon looked genuinely calm, mesmerized by the rattling sounds as though it was a gentle lullaby.

The woman looked over at him, still lying on the ground, and though he couldn't see her face due to the creepy mask, Hiccup knew she was staring at him.

"Go."

The voice was deep and rough, as though it hadn't been used in ages and with an odd accent, but the voice was still feminine, proving that Hiccup had been right about his mysterious savior's gender.

Hiccup just stared at her, mouth agape.

Valka wished that at that moment, she could tell her son who she was, but she knew she couldn't, not yet. _He didn't kill the Night Fury; he set it free,_ she thought to herself with her heart threatening to burst with pride.

She had seen him cut the ropes herself, she saw the two make eye contact and somehow she _knew_ that the bond she shared with Cloudjumper was possible with her son and the Night Fury. She didn't know how she knew, but maybe it was because of the way they looked at one another, as though they were the same sides of a coin, the Night Fury might have appeared ready to kill her son with a plasma blast to the face, but Valka knew that her son wasn't in danger, the Night Fury was about to roar at him, frightening him certainly but not killing him.

"Go." She repeated again, gesturing towards the direction of Berk with her staff.

Hiccup continued staring at her.

The Night Fury glanced behind him, cocking a head towards the boy who had shot him down. When Valka had stopped shaking the staff, the relaxation in the dragon's form was gone instantly. The dragon roared at Hiccup, before he spread spread his massive wings and flew off, shrieking as he hit tree after tree in his desperate attempt to fly away.

Hiccup and Valka watched him fly off, the latter realizing with narrowed eyes that something was wrong with the dragon's flight, she would have to find that out later, right now her son was still watching her.

Valka wished that she could just fling off her mask and rush towards her son and envelop in a hug and never let go, but she couldn't. Hiccup didn't know who she was, who she had become, he wouldn't believe her, wouldn't trust her. She needed to gain his trust before she told him, _if_ she told him.

"Uhh…" Hiccup finally remembered to speak, eyes still locked on the mysterious woman who had seemingly controlled a Night Fury with her staff, maybe even saving his life in the process.

Valka swirled her staff around in a wild arc before she slammed the curved staff against the ground, the rattles shaking wildly as the sound echoed throughout the silent forest. "You were never in danger," Valka couldn't help but tell her son, unable to hide the pride in her voice as she looked at Hiccup, who looked terribly confused. Her son hadn't killed the dragon when others, her own husband included, would have killed the gentle creature without hesitation.

"I… uh, what?" Came Hiccup's intelligent reply.

Valka smiled at him, though he couldn't see it. "He wasn't about to hurt you," she gestured towards the direction the Night Fury had fled. "He was to roar, to scare you, not kill you."

Hiccup stared at the mysterious woman whose face was hidden by a savage mask smeared with blue paint, he wanted to ask her who she was, what she had done, but he was paralyzed under her powerful gaze, he could only stare into the woman's mask with disbelief.

There was a sudden beating of wings above them, Hiccup looked up to see the massive form of a Stormcutter hovering above them, it's four wings beating in sync as one. He scrambled backwards, ready to yell to his mysterious savior to run away, but his cry fell on silent lips when he saw the woman raise her staff into the air, completely calm, and watched as the Stormcutter used it's massively, sharp claw to grip the hooked end of the woman's staff.

For a moment, mother and son stared at one another, the latter having no idea of their relationship, and then suddenly she was gone, carried through the air as she leaned against her staff and the Stormcutter calmly flew away towards the mountains.

Hiccup slowly got to his feet and turned around towards the direction of Berk, he took a single step forward but immediately collapsed onto the ground with a pitiful groan.

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Valka sighed as she removed her mask, wiping away stray bits of hair that clung to her forehead. She glanced upwards at the night sky, looking at the shining stars with a ponderous expression. Cloudjumper hobbled towards her, crooning lowly as he butted his massive head against her, the silent question heard.

"I know, Cloudjumper. Believe me I know," Valka whispered to her greatest companion, stroking his blue-tinted chin lovingly, relaxing ever so slightly from his presence. "I shouldn't have shown myself… but I had too…"

Cloudjumper looked down at her, those owlish amber eyes glinting from the firelight, making them burn like miniature suns. He crooned again, soft and guttural.

"I know the Night Fury wouldn't have hurt my boy, but I just reacted. Before I knew it I was on the ground, I had to help him, Cloudjumper. You should have seen him, he looked terrified but…" She trailed off sadly as she remembered what else she had seen besides terror in her son's eyes, eyes that were mirrored like her own. "He was _accepting_, Cloudjumper. He was accepting death. I couldn't bare the sight." A lone tear dripped from her eye as she wondered what Hels her son had gone through to make him so accepting of death.

Cloudjumper butted her again, placing his head against hers reassuringly. He looked at her mournfully, as though he too felt the pain that was plunged in Valka's heart. Valka latched on to the Stormcutter, arms wrapped around his neck as she struggled to contain herself and her emotions, she clung to him as though he were a lifeline. His familiar scent calmed her ever so slightly, he smelled of smoke, cooked cod, and that odd musky scent that could only be from a dragon, he smelled like home.

"He's like I once was, do you know that?" Valka told him softly as she tenderly stroked his snout, forehead pressed against his scaled shoulder. "All these years he was all alone… an outcast…" She laughed bitterly, "And where was I?"

Cloudjumper pulled his head away from her reach and glanced down at her, silently probing a question, hurt evident in his eyes it made Valka's heart ache for being the cause of it. "No, Cloudjumper, no. I have never regretted staying with you at the Sanctuary, I never missed Berk and her people. I just wished Hiccup had been with me, where he could have been loved." She assured him with a voice tinged with sadness and regret at the last sentence.

Cloudjumper trilled softly, his neck frills spread out.

"I'm sure Stoick loves him, but chief Stoick? No, Hiccup is small and thin, when the heir must be strong. Stoick as a father might love him, but Stoick as the chief never could. Hiccup didn't kill that Night Fury, Cloudjumper, he let him go. No Viking would ever do such a thing. He's different, my boy." Valka said the last part sadly, though still proud.

She was proud of her son, for he had done what no other Viking had done –before her, of course- and that was letting a dragon go instead of killing it. She was so proud of him, proud of who he was. She was saddened however when she realized that whereas she was proud of her son and his actions, if the villagers, and even Stoick, ever found out that Hiccup had set free a Night Fury, an enemy, they would resent him even more.

The Vikings hated difference, abhorred it even. They were close-minded and stubborn at that, as they always had been even when it was herself being the social outcast instead of her son. Whenever she spoke her mind about dragons, that they could be dealt with in a peaceful way that didn't end with an axe in their gut. They had sneered and chuckled as though she were mad. They probably thought she was. They had looked at her with eyes full of loathing and rancor, eyes that had burned into her that not even the heat of dragon fire could ever hope to match it, eyes that haunted her childhood. Those same eyes that were now directed to her son.

Hiccup was different. She knew it the second she saw him, he was small where Vikings was massive, he was smart where Vikings weren't, he didn't kill a dragon when a Viking would have done so in a heartbeat.

Valka had never felt so proud in all her life. Her son hadn't killed a dragon, even when he had the perfect chance for recognition and attention. He could have killed that dragon and his life would have changed, because killing a dragon meant everything to Vikings, and if he had killed the Night Fury he wouldn't have to worry about those haunting eyes anymore. Hiccup had known that, he had known that if he killed that dragon, everything would get better, but yet he had let the dragon go. Even when everything he had learned and grew up in demanded that he kill the Night Fury, Hiccup had ignored it and did what was right.

_All these years, he took after me,_ Valka thought with a smile, unable to stop the glee from showing as she realized that her boy didn't take after his close-minded father, but instead his mother, though he had never truly known her.

"Yeh should have seen him, Cloudjumper. Yeh should have seen my boy," she said as she rubbed the Stormcutter's jaw with deft, light fingers. "He let the Night Fury go, he isn't a dragon killer… I don't think he knows what he is, but I know what he can become… He could be one of us."

Cloudjumper blinked at her words, warbling something out that nobody other than Valka would have understood.

"He doesn't know who he is, my dearest friend. All his life he has been surrounded by Vikings and their bloodthirsty ways, but if he were to meet someone different than them, someone just as different as he himself… we could guide him to a better future." Valka pondered her words, suddenly finding clarity as she imagined a beautiful, and maybe even possible, future.

A future where her son was at his mother's side, where he rightfully belonged. With a dragon of his own to love and cherish just like she loved Cloudjumper, her greatest friend.

She wanted that future so badly her whole soul seemed to ache in yearning. She wanted to be in her son's life, she wanted to be there for him. She wanted to be there to hold him when he cried, to whisper reassurances when he felt down, to kiss his temple and comb his shaggy, auburn hair. She wanted to be a mother again.

The only problem Valka saw was how her son would react when he learned who she truly was. Would he hate her for leaving him alone for all those years? Would he reject her? The thought of her own son hating her made tears form in the corners of her eyes. When she was still on Berk Valka had faced rejection on a daily basis by the majority of Berk, only Stoick, Gobber and Gothi the Elder had ever been truly kind to her. She had become so used to their rejection that it soon didn't hurt anymore, though those burning eyes still haunted her. Rejection had never bothered her after so many years of facing and having to deal with it on a daily basis. But if her son was to reject his mother? The thought terrified her.

Cloudjumper purred as he wrapped one of his secondary wings around his rider, enveloping her shivering form like a warm blanket. She felt the fears and insecurities that plagued her cease to exist under the presence of her friend. She placed her forehead against his chest, listening to the strong heartbeat that had always lulled her into a sense of safety. He was her greatest friend, they were two souls brought together to form into one.

Hiccup needed guidance, he needed a helping hand to show him the right path. Hiccup needed someone willing to listen to him and his troubles, someone willing to help him. Her son needed his mother. Because who else could help her son go through what she herself had gone through? That terrible feeling of loneliness… it was almost unbearable, if not for Stoick and his love Valka might have very well gone insane from all the heated glares and hateful whispers. Valka had had Stoick when she had been the receiver of those terrible glares, but Hiccup had no one.

_Well that is about to change,_ Valka thought to herself with determination, maternal fury seeping through her body in terrifying waves._ No one is ever going to hurt my baby boy again, not while I have something to say about it. Hiccup doesn't need those villagers who are too stuck in their barbaric, stubbornness ways. All he needs is his mother._

The last thought made her anger and fury slowly fade as dread sank it's claws into her heart. The fear of rejection had returned with greater strength. Would Hiccup even wish to know her when he realized who she was, or would he leave her just as she had left him for fifteen years? The thought was unbearable. Valka couldn't tell him the truth the next time she saw him, because she knew that he would reject her before she could have a say. Hiccup wouldn't understand why she had stayed away all these years until now. He wouldn't understand who she truly was, what she had become. But she was determined to try to help him understand, if only to regain a chance to be with her child.

"What am I to do, my friend?" She asked the Stormcutter. "How can I help my son without him knowing who I truly am?"

Cloudjumper blinked at her, his message heard despite the silence and Valka's heart sank.

He didn't know either.

"I guess we'll have to wait and see," Valka relented softly. "He's curious, far too curious for his own good." She smiled at that, for he had gotten that from her. "He'll be back, I know he will. He'll come back to the woods, for either myself or the Night Fury."

Hiccup would return, she knew it deep in her soul. Her son had seen the possibility of a whole way of life when she had 'saved' him from the Night Fury. He, who had been born and raised in such a violent village, saw for the first time a dragon and human together, coexisting peacefully instead of locked in mortal combat. He would realize that there were different ways of life outside of the one that abhorred him. He didn't know that he was destined for great things, he didn't know what plans his mother had for him.

Hiccup could never be a Viking and Valka knew that Hiccup knew that himself, because when he had lowered that knife away from the Night Fury's heart, he had forgone Viking tradition at it's very core. Seeing how isolated he was from the other villagers in Berk, it wouldn't be hard for Valka to sway her son into seeing thing reasonably.

Hiccup wouldn't become a Viking, not while his mother was around. Valka would show him a new way of life and thinking, she would shower her son with all the love and adoration she could muster within her, something that Hiccup had sorely been lacking in his life. She would gain his trust and when the time was right, reveal herself as his mother come back for the boy she had left in that cradle fifteen years ago. Hiccup wouldn't become a Viking.

He would become a dragon rider.

* * *

><p><strong>I decided I would update this story a little bit earlier than I planned, mostly because I already have several chapters written down for this. I'm curious to see how you guys like Valka and Hiccup; I'm still a bit rusty with writing these characters but hopefully I've tried to make them as realistic as possible. Some of you might be upset that I won't have Hiccup know right away that the woman in the mask is his mother, he will find out but not for a long time. The reason I did this is because I can see this as the most realistic and logical choice for Valka who is afraid that her son will reject her if he found out right away. The way I'm heading is that Valka will slowly gain Hiccup's trust before finally revealing to him that she is his mother.<strong>

**What do you think about Hiccup? Hiccup's life as a social outcast will play a huge role in this story as you will see in later chapters. This will play an important role with Valka as she will be the first and only person who actually cares about him, though Hiccup won't know who she really is. This will make him much more willing to trust her. I would say more, but it might spoil some things so you'll have to read future chapters for me.**

**Please leave a review, they are the lifeblood of this story!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Did you hear?"

"Useless…"

"Couldn't even fight off a Gronckle…"

"Always making things worse, I heard that the other children got hurt as well… he must be rubbing off on 'em…"

"Weakling…"

"I heard he ran… coward…"

Hiccup lowered his head and hunched his shoulders, as though to shield himself from the heated whispers and the glares full of rancor. His heart was still pounding from the battle with the Gronckle, if one could even call it a battle. More like a fiery massacre. He hadn't been the only one to lose, Snoutlout and the twins lost as well, but yet the villagers only saw him as the lone loser.

"How can a son of Stoick the Vast be so… so useless?"

"Probably couldn't even handle a Terror. His father squeezed one's head off when he was still suckling…"

"Can't even lift a hammer or swing an axe..."

"Not even a proper Viking…"

"He's always been different… He never was born right like the other children…"

Hiccup tried to ignore them, tried to ignore them and their horrible truths. But it was impossible, he was trapped, trapped as that Night Fury had been, but instead of ropes it was the expectations of his father and people, and did he fail ever so spectacularly.

"Doubt he could handle the sight of dragon blood… the same as his mother…."

At that whisper, Hiccup froze in place, eyes wide and heart pounding. He slowly turned around and hid behind a cart full of apples, the vendor nowhere in sight. He focused his attention of the one who had spoken, a rather large Viking man talking with Phelgma the Fierce, a Viking woman who had always resented Hiccup since he could first walk.

Phelgma seemed to agree with the Viking man, both of them unaware of their eavesdropper. "Aye, Valka never could handle the sight of spilt dragon blood. Couldn't stand any of the conflict, she was an odd one, just like her son."

Hiccup suddenly felt anger bubble within him, an emotion he had never really felt before. He usually only felt self-loathing and desperation, anger was new. He realized that he didn't like it when people insulted his mother, though he had never known her. But yet he didn't yell at them, not due to his cowardice, but because he was so desperate to know of the mother he had never known, his father never spoke of her and Gobber never told him anything, only that he looked like her.

The man nodded his head at the Viking woman's statement, rolling his eyes as he remembered the Chief's wife with open disdain. "She had always been weird, what with the way she went off about stopping the war with the dragons by being friendly to them, bah!" He spat on the ground, "Valka had a bleeding heart for those damned devils, and its no wonder Odin cursed her."

"You mean how she was killed by the very thing she was trying to save?" Phelgma the Fierce asked him; Hiccup felt his heart break just a little as he heard that. It hurt to know that his mother was killed doing something she believed right. It wasn't fair.

The Viking man snorted at that, "Hmph, no. Though now that I think of it, perhaps that was the way of the gods to get rid of her, killed by a dragon."

Hiccup bit down on his lips to prevent himself from screaming at them, his teeth bit through and blood crept into his mouth but he paid it no heed. He felt no pain, only a terrible rage that shook his frail form. Those people didn't know his mother at all! Odin would never have killed his mother like that, they were wrong!

"Than 'ow else did Odin curse her?" Phelgma the Fierce asked curiously.

"Why with that son 'o hers."

Hiccup clenched his hands into tightened fists; he bit down harder on his lip that drew more unnoticed blood. He had never felt so angry in his life, these people had no right to speak of his mother like that, and acting like he was some cursed burden.

_You_ _are a burden,_ that tiny little voice in the back of his head that craved attention spoke up silently. _You're a burden to Berk, to your father, to everyone. You're useless and weak and a coward, there's a reason you're called Hiccup the Useless._

The fierce Viking woman sighed wearily with a tone full of pity. "Aye. Poor chief, having to deal with that terrible nuisance all day and all night, he has never ever truly had a moment of respite. Before that runt of his was born, it was the boy's mother making trouble."

"Strange that he even married her in the first place. Valka, a damned dragon lover, and Stoick the Vast? By Thor, what a storm that caused… Stoick loved her, he truly did despite her unpopular opinions," the Viking man said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It broke his heart when she died during that raid, eaten by the very things she was trying so hard to protect. No wonder she died so early, it was a foolish dream that would kill her, and it did."

Hiccup turned around to leave, unable to listen anymore. The thought of his mother hurt him deeply, knowing that he would never know her as she had died when he was a baby. Eaten by dragons, everyone would say behind Stoick's back. He began to head towards the woods, finding comfort with the isolation with only his thoughts for company. He tried to process what he had just heard from the two Viking warriors, his head all but spinning at the new information about his deceased mother.

His mother had been an outcast when she had been alive, just like he was now. His mother apparently loved dragons. Does that mean she would of approved or, by Odin, maybe even _proud_ that Hiccup had released that Night Fury in the woods two days ago? He hoped so, he truly hoped so.

He leaned against a tree trunk and slid down to sit, hands draped around his knobby knees, lost in thought as he wondered what if would have been like, for maybe the hundredth time, if his mother was alive.

Would she have loved him despite his meager stature? Would she kiss the cuts and bruises from Snoutlout's rough tussling when he had been little, or rather littler? Would she have told him she loved him and that she was proud of him? His father had never said those words to him, not even once, all his father had given him was expectations he could never reach and that infamous disappointed scowl. Would she love him despite the fact he was everything that he shouldn't be?

He couldn't lift a hammer or swing an axe and he couldn't even throw a stupid bola.

One day, when Hiccup was young, his father told him to bang his head against a rock. He did it after a moment of hesitation, not because he wanted to but because he was terrified of disappointing his father yet again. So he smashed his head against the rock, nothing happened besides Hiccup gaining a terrible headache and a bloody and bruised forehead. His father had given him that same disappointed scowl again, which hurt even worse than the headache and bleeding forehead.

He wasn't a Viking, he was just Hiccup the Useless. The awkward, gangling son of Berk's greatest and strongest Viking, his father's greatest disappointment.

_Mother... are you watching me now? Was I right in letting that Night Fury, an enemy, go?_ Hiccup thought as he looked upwards towards the heavens. _Are you proud of me? Or are you just as ashamed of me as dad is?_

He remembered what Gobber had told him a few days prior_, "Now its not so much what you look like, it's what's inside that he can't stand…_ _Stop trying so hard to be something you're not._

_I just want to be one of you guys,_ Hiccup thought to himself in a pitiful tone, _I just want to be accepted. I just want a friend._

Hiccup had never had a friend before, nobody wanted to associate with the village outcast.

That dragon woman… She had saved him, _him!_ Why? Why did she do that? Didn't she know who he was? The outcast of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, the most unViking Viking to ever live, the person who could literally make the terrible always happen. Why did she save him?

That thought stuck with him throughout dinner as he sat all alone, as usual, with only his meal to accompany him. He stared at the cooked cod, his appetite lost as he thought back to that moment in the woods. It seemed so surreal, he would have thought it a really lifelike dream, but the evidence was still there, his chest still hurt from the Night Fury's paw. It had been real, the dragon and the woman had been real.

Did she maybe… care about him?

Hiccup shook that hopeful and pitiful sounding thought out of his mind, nobody cared about him. Sure, people looked out for him, but that was more for his father than his actual wellbeing. He didn't have anyone who really cared, Gobber was always busy at the forge or training new Vikings -actual Vikings who weren't anything like Hiccup- and thus couldn't really be counted. His father was Stoick the Vast, the chieftain of Berk, who didn't have the time to deal with both his son's troublemaking ways and his people, much less having the time to actually care about his son, he doubted his father had ever asked him how his day was going in his entire life.

Only one person had ever truly cared about him, had truly loved him despite who he was. His mother. But she was dead, eaten by dragons, he would never see her again and would never know who she truly was. He didn't even remember her.

By Thor, that thought hurt more than an axe to the chest.

The dragon lady had taken down that Night Fury all by herself; she didn't even need a shield or an axe to do so. She had just used that odd staff of her and shook it, and the dragon immediately responded by calming down. She had probably saved his life when she had done it.

Hiccup was jealous of her, for she was of a same build as him though much taller, yet she managed to take down a Night Fury, the Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death itself, with ease. Though maybe 'take down' wasn't the correct term for what she had done. It was amazing, the thing she did. The dragon _listened_ to her. The dragon that had killed dozens of Vikings had been reduced to the lethal level of a curious housecat. It had relaxed in her presence, whereas in Hiccup's the dragon had nearly killed him.

He wished he could do that. To be strong instead of weak despite his small stature.

He wished that he wasn't useless. He wished that he wasn't small and frail when everyone else was massive and strong. He wished that he wasn't different. The dragon lady had saved his life, why did she do that?

Hiccup paused as he thought that as he looked down at his dinner with a revolted look, he didn't feel like eating. He pushed the cooling fish away from him and began to walk out of the Great Hall, passing past the scores of Vikings who feasted and laughed with one another as they told tales of their adventures with their multitude of friends.

Hiccup could safely say he had never done that. He had no friends, nor had he ever had one to begin with. His whole life, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third had been always alone.

Ostracized. Resented. Ignored. Excluded. Shunned. Disliked. _Alone._

Loneliness… That was what he had always hated and what he was always terrified of. The prospect of being alone for the rest of his life terrified him. Ever since he could walk he had been different and he was shunned because of it. Hiccup didn't want to be alone anymore.

Alone… Hiccup had always been alone.

He had always been hated and resented by the large majority of the Berkians, but if Hiccup even had just _one_ friend the boy would be content for the rest of his life. At least if he had someone to talk to, someone who would actually listen to him instead of waving him off, he could be happy.

The problem was that nobody on Berk liked him in the slightest.

All because he was small when he was supposed to be strong, smart where he was supposed to be average in intelligence, weak where he was supposed to be strong. Hiccup wasn't a Viking, he had never been a Viking. And because of that everyone ignored and hated him with a terrible bitterness that made Hiccup want to cry out at the unfairness of his unfixable and unchangeable situation.

But maybe… maybe he could change…

He couldn't kill dragons, he had realized that when he let the Night Fury go. But maybe he could take them down so the other Vikings could take care of them and give him the credit of taking them down instead of ruining everything like he normally did. The only problem was that the last time he had come face to face with a dragon, he had nearly died if the mysterious masked woman hadn't saved him in time.

_If I can find that woman, I can ask her to train me._ He thought to himself as he hurried towards his home, the village was as silent as a grave yard, save for the occasional sound of sheep. _She can teach me how to take down dragons without killing them._

Taking down a dragon itself would be a miracle for him. The villagers and his father would be so shocked that Hiccup, _Hiccup_ of all people, had taken down a dragon, it didn't matter what kind as long it had scales and breathed fire, they wouldn't think of the no killing part. They wouldn't even believe the fact he had taken down a dragon for them to care about him refusing to kill one.

He couldn't kill a dragon. He wouldn't kill a dragon. He had tried to tell his father before he left on yet another pointless expedition to find the Nest, but his father had told him that he would learn the trade of his Viking ancestors, dragon slaying, and any protests had died when he saw there was no way out. He was trapped.

_Maybe she can help me. I could become the son my father had always wanted, just a little on the small side._ Hiccup thought to himself with determination and a little optimism._ In my opinion, I think it's better to have more brains than muscles. I mean, just look at Snoutlout._

Granted he didn't have muscles like his cousin, and probably never will, but at least he wasn't a complete idiot, which Snoutlout was. If only brainpower actually helped him with his masculine and completely Viking cousin, usually Snoutlout would just shove him into the ground before he could even begin to think of a way out of it.

Hiccup felt a bit bad, as though he was being deceitful towards the woman who had saved his life. He was basically using her to further his goals to become a Viking, to become something that he wasn't, to become something that nobody saw as a nuisance or a pest. He just wanted to be one of them. Why couldn't anybody _see_ that? _It doesn't matter,_ he thought to himself with determination, _I don't even know her. It's not like she cares about me, she probably just saved me out of pity._

Hiccup nodded his head at that, silently agreeing with himself on his belief that the masked woman didn't care about him. Why would she? She didn't even know him.

He stared at towards the woods wistfully; they had always been his escape from the village. He wondered if she was even still there, he doubted that the dragon lady lived on the Isle of Berk, people would have found out about her if she did. Would the Night Fury still be there?

Gobber said that all dragons always went for the kill, but the Night Fury hadn't. Granted he might have been about to kill him, but the lady said he was never in danger, that the dragon wouldn't have hurt him. He believed her too, for why would she have the need to lie to someone she doesn't even know?

He had to find her, that woman in the savagely painted mask with the odd sounding staff in her hand. He had to learn from her, if he could do what she did, maybe then he could find some small piece of acceptance from the villagers and his father.

Because at the end of the day, despite his many screw ups and sarcastic, bitter taunts that were secretly desperate cries for attention, all Hiccup had ever wanted was to be loved instead of rejected.

* * *

><p>Valka found the Night Fury rather easily. She and Cloudjumper had flown over the forest searching for the elusive dragon at dusk, where few Vikings hunting in the massive woods would see them. It had taken them all but a couple of minutes once Valka and her dragon companion had returned to the spot where the Night Fury had crashed and where he had been released by Valka's son.<p>

He had apparently trapped himself in a small cove nestled in Raven's Point, desperately clawing at the rock walls that confined him. His attempts at flight always ending in crashing, for Valka had instantly realized that the dragon's left tailfin was missing.

_It must have been torn off during his crash,_ Valka thought mournfully, realizing that even if she and Cloudjumper got the midnight-scaled dragon out of his natural prison and back to the Sanctuary with the other dragons that she had rescued over the course of fifteen years, he would never be able to fly again.

It was just so unfair that such a beautiful and graceful creature would never fly through the clouds again, unless he were carried. He would forever be pinned to the ground, unable to feel that freedom of flying ever again. The Night Fury might well be the last of his kind, she loathed the idea of the elusive race being extinct after this one.

She loved dragons, and though he would be forever grounded, Valka would help in anyway that she could. He wasn't the first to be maimed, for there were several dragons back home who had been maimed by Drago Bludvist's cruel dragon traps. She would care for him, nurse him back to health as though he were her own child, and when he was ready, would carry him to the safety of her Alpha's care.

Cloudjumper landed at the top of the cove, his massively sharp claws digging into the rock as he looked down at the trapped dragon with narrowed eyes. The Night Fury stopped his desperate attempts of escape and instead opted to stare at the Stormcutter, his pupils mere thin slits that showed his agitation.

Valka vaulted off of Cloudjumper's back and slowly slid down the steep wall, her staff digging into the rock to slow her descent until she landed onto the ground safely.

The Night Fury growled at her menacingly, rounded teeth apparent to the former Viking woman. His slender body was tense and curled upwards threateningly. His massive wings spread up above him to make him appear larger, like most dragons did when they were afraid, angry or territorial. Valka could see the fear in his beautiful green eyes, the Night Fury knew that he couldn't fly, that he couldn't escape, but yet the dragon held his ground. Valka had to be proud of his bravery, though she was no threat.

She slowly crawled forward, dropping her staff and shield as she did so. She slowly approached the dragon on all fours, her movement so dragon like it would have unnerved anyone. The Night Fury raised his hackles, teeth shown and his tail tense and twitching ever so slightly, he was ready to defend himself from the human.

Valka still approached him slowly, completely unafraid though a bit cautious, and when she was close enough Valka raised her hand and slowly moved it around in a graceful pattern, watching as the Night Fury followed the movement with thin pupils. She suddenly brought her hand back down, clenching it into a loose fist, and the Night Fury rolled on his back, tongue lolling out as his teeth retracted and his pupils rapidly dilated and rounded.

She slowly caressed the dragon's belly, her touch as light as a feather. The Night Fury purred at her touch, his rounded pupils gazing up at her with apparent curiosity and no sense of fear.

Valka laughed lightly as she caressed the dragon's jawline, watching him close his eyes in contentment as she scratched at a patch of scales underneath his jaw, his tail thumped against the ground happily.

She slowly took off her mask, allowing the Night Fury to see her face.

The dark dragon stood on all fours, ears cocked backwards as he sniffed her curiously. She didn't smell like the Vikings, if anything she smelled of dragon, and she smelled familiar. She smelled faintly like the small human Viking that had let him go.

The Night Fury looked up at her, tongue lolling out of his mouth and showed his teeth in a dragonish smile. He guffawed out something, and Valka mimicked him by opening her mouth as wide as it could go.

"Ayaya," She mimicked him with large beam as the dragon mimicked her as well, his whole body began to contort slightly as he chortled in what could only be laughter.

Valka slowly lowered herself in a crouch, knees bent as she looked at the beautiful creature. "A Night Fury, right in front of me," she all but whispered in wonder, gazing at the elusive dragon with awe. She had never seen a Night Fury before despite fifteen years of living amongst dragons and exploring the world. _He might very well be the last of his kind,_ Valka thought.

The dragon stared back, intelligent green eyes staring at her with rounded pupils. Valka slowly, ever so slowly, raised her right hand into the air; her palm and fingers spread outwards near the dragon. Valka looked at him right in the eyes, trying to tell him that it was all right, that he had nothing to fear from her.

He slowly lumbered closer, his gait almost feline as he crept forwards, head cocked to the side curiously as he stared at the palm. The dragon blinked slowly, dilated pupils staring at the appendage with curiousness. She held her breath as he slowly got closer and could only watch as the gentle creature slowly, almost hesitantly, pressed his snout against her palm.

She smiled at the dragon, recognizing the amount of trust that had been placed upon her by the dragon. _Once you earn a dragon's trust, there is nothing they won't do for you,_ she thought to herself. She would use that to her advantage, she would use that trust to convince him to allow her and Cloudjumper to carry him to their home, the Sanctuary where they dwelled under their Alpha's rule and command. There was nothing here on Berk but an inevitable death; she would let no such thing happen to any dragon, especially to such an endangered dragon race. She swore she would save the dragons, and by Thor she would.

The Night Fury purred in contentment, his form practically vibrating from the force. Valka grinned as she stroked the beautiful dragon's face, curious fingers touching every scale that she could reach. The dragon rumbled out a low warble, pleased by her touch.

The dark dragon looked at her with bright green eyes with large pupils, rounded teeth shown by his curled lips. Suddenly the rounded teeth disappeared into his gums, making the dragon grin at her with a toothless smile.

"Retractable teeth," Valka exclaimed in glee as she gently grabbed the sides of the dragon's maw ands stuck her head into his mouth, starring at gums with a look of wonder. She had never seen a dragon capable of retracting ones teeth before. She removed her head from the mouth and eagerly stroked the dragon's snout, beaming as he leaned into her touch. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" She asked him with a teasing smile, forehead pressed against his snout in a friendly manner.

The dragon grinned at her as his teeth appeared again. His long serpentine-like tail moved back and forth across the ground, scuffing up the dirt in his eagerness. It tore at Valka's heartstrings to see the missing left tailfin.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet," Valka told the dragon as she rubbed his snout, grinning like a fool when he purred at her touch.

She looked up towards where Cloudjumper watched on his perch, his amber eyes watching her protectively, she beckoned him down with a jerk of the head and watched as the proud four-winged dragon glided down to her and their newest companion.

The Night Fury tensed at the sudden arrival of the Stormcutter, his pupils thinning ever so slightly. Valka scratched that spot of scales under his chin, which made the jet black dragon relax at her touch.

"This is Cloudjumper," Valka gestured towards the Stormcutter, who stared downwards at the Night Fury with curiosity burning in his amber eyes.

Cloudjumper slowly hobbled to the Night Fury, who looked up at the much larger dragon with wide green eyes. The two dragons stared at one another, amber meeting green, an unspoken conversation seemed to happen between the two. Suddenly Cloudjumper leaned his massive head down to the Night Fury's eye-level. The Night Fury slowly leaned his head against Cloudjumper's own, his black forehead resting against Cloudjumper's scarred crown.

There was something so symbolic at the sight that it made Valka smile warmly. This is what she was meant to do. Protect and care for dragons. This poor beautiful creature was trapped in this natural prison, unable to fly away and escape. He would die if they didn't get him out of there and even then the wild wouldn't help him due to the Vikings of Berk. If the Vikings knew that a Night Fury was roaming their island with a missing tailfin that made flight impossible, hunting parties would be on this beautiful creature in a heartbeat. But she could protect this elusive Strike Class dragon when she gained enough of his trust to carry him back to the Sanctuary.

It wouldn't matter to their Alpha if he couldn't fly, as Valka's Alpha was a kind and generous ruler. Most Queens and even some Kings wouldn't want a crippled dragon in their Nest, for they couldn't hunt for themselves, but Valka's King was nothing of that sort. The white Bewilderbeast welcomed all dragons, no matter how crippled, into his home. He would surely welcome another addition to their growing numbers.

The Night Fury suddenly glanced at her, head perking up like an excited dog, before he bounded over to her as he rubbed his scaled form against her with a rumbling purr. She laughed as she felt something warm and wet against the entirely of her face, not at all perturbed or annoyed that the Night Fury had licked her. For dragons, licking was a form of conveying one's affections to another and it warmed Valka's heart to have gained the Night Fury's affections, and thus friendship, in such a short period of time.

"You're just a big softie, aren't ya?" She all but cooed at the supposed Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself, who warbled out something with a choky laugh.

The Night Fury leaned into her, nuzzling at her leather armor with a content warble. She gave the dragon a vigorous rubbing of the jawline, something all dragons she knew loved, and the Night Fury was no exception.

The elusive Strike Class dragon seemed to all but melt at her touch, rolling onto his back with his teeth retracted to show off his gummy smile.

Valka laughed as she began to pile a group of sticks into a neat bundle, luckily there were a lot of broken limbs in the cove from the Night Fury's attempts to escape. Cloudjumper spat out a small torrent of fire, immediately igniting the wood before he headed over towards the small pond with a curious purr.

The Night Fury bounded over to her, tongue lolling as Valka sat besides the fire. With a low croon, the Night Fury laid his head down on Valka's lap, purring when she scratched behind his ears.

Valka suddenly heard the sound of splashing water and turned around to see Cloudjumper remove his head from the small pond that was nestled in the middle of the cove, his mouth filled with fish. He slowly hobbled over to where his rider and the Night Fury rested, before he swallowed his meal contently.

She heard the low croons come from the Night Fury, reminiscent of a hatchling who wished to be fed. She felt his stomach rumble from where her hands were pressed against him. The dragon himself was staring up at Cloudjumper with watery green eyes, his pupils widen greatly, and the small downturn of his lips that showed his displeasure. He looked like a pleading hatchling, rather than what the Vikings believed was the Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself.

She realized that with his smaller form, it must be near impossible to fish for food than it would be for Cloudjumper, who had the advantage of his claws and larger head.

Cloudjumper stared down at him, refusing to be cowed by the pleading look the smaller and younger dragon was sending his way. With an agitated huff, Cloudjumper turned his head away, refusing to look at him.

Valka frowned at that, recognizing the situation.

"Cloudjumper…" She warned silently, like a mother scolding her troublemaking child.

The Stormcutter grumbled rebelliously, which made the former Viking glare at him.

He shuffled his body away from her, his massive scaled back facing her with his wings tucked in neatly, refusing to look her in the eye.

She leaned forward, eyes narrowed and face set in a permanent scowl that cowed even their Alpha. Cloudjumper tensed, sensing her glare burning into him. Slowly he turned his head around like an owl, his head now looking behind his back. He growled sadly when Valka continued to glare at him, head lowering slightly when he looked away, if anything the Stormcutter looked like a child who had been caught with a hand in the sweets jar.

She began to tap a finger against an armored plate on her shin. The Night Fury was watching the two with fascination, eyes wide and a slow dragonish smirk appearing as the elusive and rare dragon realized that Valka was on his side instead of Cloudjumper's.

Valka stayed silent, but anyone with common sense could see her displeasure in her pursed lips, narrowed brows and hands placed on her hips in loose fists.

With what could only be an irritated and exasperated huff, Cloudjumper's neck and mouth seemed to convolve. There were several moments where both woman and Night Fury watched as they heard the sounds of him hacking.

Cloudjumper regurgitated half of his catch and spat it on the ground, the fish themselves were coated in slimly slobber and bile.

The Night Fury didn't seem to mind as he sprang to his feet and eagerly slurped the pile of fish, slobber and all, with enthusiastic speed. When he finished his meal, the Night Fury gave the former Viking woman a wide gummy smile with his tongue lolling out. With a toothy grin that looked almost sheepish, Cloudjumper crawled over to his rider, whose frown had disappeared and was instead replaced with a warm smile.

With a laugh Valka looked at her dragon companion of fifteen years who nuzzled her lovingly, purring contently when she scratched the plate the divided his face and forehead. "Was that so hard?" She crooned out tenderly, chuckling when Cloudjumper nuzzled her again with equal tenderness.

The Night Fury slowly crept up to the larger dragon, almost playfully as the jet black dragon rubbed himself against the Stormcutter's body, reminiscent of a content cat. Cloudjumper looked down at the Night Fury with what could only be a smile and slowly nudged the dragon with his massive head in a friendly manner.

Valka watched the interaction with a beam, enjoying how the two dragons interacted. _They will be goods friends for sure,_ she thought to herself.

Cloudjumper suddenly tensed, his head suddenly titling around his shoulders until he faced the direction behind him. The Night Fury tensed as well, his body coiled like a snake about to strike.

Valka immediately knew that the two dragons sensed something. She leapt to her feet and grabbed her mask and quickly put it on before grabbing her staff and shield that lay against a boulder. She barely had time to face whatever danger her beloved dragon companion and their newest dragon companion sensed, when she saw a head peak into the cove from a crevice.

She lowered her staff ever so slightly, for she instantly recognized her son peeking into the cove.

Hiccup tried to hide behind the rock wall, though he was terribly aware that he was just about as good at hiding as he was at killing dragons. Sighing at the realization the woman had seen him; Hiccup slowly emerged from the crevice. He stared at the beautiful natural cove with wonder before focusing on the strange woman and the two dragons that were staring up at him curiously.

Swallowing back his nervousness, Hiccup slowly headed towards the woman with determination.

"I need to talk to you," he told the woman, trying to sound brave and manly like his father when in reality he was all but trembling at the woman who without a word could control dragons.

Valka smiled beneath her mask and sat down crossed legged as she leaned against Cloudjumper's side. She gestured towards the small fire for him to sit, "I knew you would come." She informed him as her son cautiously sat down on the other side of the fire, nervously glancing at the massive Stormcutter who was curled around her protectively and to the Night Fury that looked at him with narrowed eyes from the woman's lap.

"You have questions," the woman stated. The firelight gleamed off of her mask; Hiccup wished he knew what she looked like, the mask made her seem inhuman, more dragon than human.

Hiccup nodded shyly, still in awe of how comfortable the woman was with two of the most dangerous of dragons by her side. She was even using one as a _pillow,_ and the Stormcutter didn't seem to mind in the slightest, if anything it looked content. Even the Night Fury was laying it's head on the woman's lap like content dog looking for a good scratch. It was unnerving, to see dragons completely at ease with a human when Hiccup had seen so much death and fighting in Berk between the two species.

"Then ask your questions, young Viking." Valka noticed how her son flinched at the last word; she decided to remember that for later. "We have much to discuss."


	4. Searching for the Nest

The sea was calm, the waves gently lapping against the armada of Viking ships that proudly sailed towards the uncharted waters that belonged to the dragons. The leading ship had a sail with the sigil of two swords impaled through the body of a monstrous red dragon. Another held the image of a red-haired Viking with a thick beard. The last held the image of another red dragon twisted around the sail with blood seeping through it's wounds. They had been sailing for several days, and aside from a random Scauldron attack, their voyage had been uneventful.

Stoick the Vast, Chieftain of Berk, stood at the prow of his ship that led the armada, a total of three Viking warships filled to the brim with Vikings and weaponry. His cold brown eyes scanning for any possible signs of danger, his hand never straying too far from his axe. The sea was lifeless, no birds flew above them nor did fish swim below them.

He didn't blame them, for no sentient living being would be foolish enough to live between the border of man and dragon.

The fog that divided Stoick and his Viking warriors from their most hated enemy loomed before them. A wall of thick mist that looked like billowing smoke. It's sickly grey color reminiscent of decaying flesh. Stoick tried to see through it, but it was impossible. The fog lingered before them, the silence unnerving, as though they were sailing straight for the gates of Helheim, the gates of hell. They were, in a sense.

He stared into the fog, unafraid of the hidden dangers that dwelled within. He had traveled through the fog before countless times, hoping for the gods to bless him with a safe voyage to finally end the dragon threat, but so far all he had gained from those trips were scars, burns and the faces of the dead who had fought with him in those ambushes and fell to the beasts.

So many of his people had died in that fog, the dividing border between two worlds. One a world of man and the other a land of savage demons. Ships only rarely ever returned, their passengers often killed by those that they hunted. Only a few ships returned to Berk, and even then the ship was all but ready to collapse upon itself. The people who returned were always few and far between, so many had been killed by dragons, so many loved ones lost, so many lives snuffed out by those demons of the skies.

They were in there; Stoick could feel it in his bones. Those monsters dwelled within the fog's deathly embrace, well protected by the thick, curling fog that reminded Stoick of the countless fires that had burned Berk, and the smoke that followed. Sometimes, if he looked hard enough, he swore he could see the faint outline of his own house, burning.

_Fifteen years… _ Stoick thought with a heart as heavy as he was. _Odin, why did you take her away from me? From our son?_

Valka… oh how Stoick missed his beloved wife. Fifteen years had passed since she was snatched by that Thor damned Stormcutter, a demon amongst devils, taken from this world far too early. He had loved her more than anything in the world. Fifteen years had passed, yet Stoick didn't go a day without thinking of her. Whenever the spring breeze blew, he would close his eyes and think it Valka caressing his cheek. Whenever a dragon raid happened, he thought of her death, how she was snatched from him by that devil. Whenever he saw his son, all Stoick saw was his mother in Hiccup's features, the tilt of his chin, the auburn hair, eyes the deepest of green. By Thor he even scowled like her, thin brows narrowed and eyes glinting dangerously though Valka had perfected the art of intimidation despite her small stature whilst Hiccup couldn't even scare a child. Hiccup took after his mother, and Valka didn't leave that much room left for himself. It hurt, to see his dead wife in his son.

_Not a day goes by where I don't think of you,_ Stoick thought to his wife's ghost as he stared out towards the fog and the Nest that housed those wretched beasts that had killed her and hundreds of his people. _I will avenge you, Valka. I swear it. By the gods, I will have my vengeance, my sweet Val… Soon, when I find that Nest, I will kill the Stormcutter that took you from Hiccup and I. I will finally give you peace by killing your killer._

He would find the Nest, he would break it down with his bare hands if he had too. He would kill every dragon he saw, and if he happened to chance upon a Stormcutter, he would gladly end it's life as slowly and painfully as possible. The dragons had taken away Valka from him. He would take their lives as repayment. And when he found the devil that had killed his wife, he would proudly nail it's monstrous head on his mantle for the world to see that Stoick had finally avenged his beloved.

His younger brother walked up towards him, standing behind him at a respectful distance. "We're ready," Spitelout said gravely as he also stared out into the swirling fog with eyes as cold as Stoick's. He too knew what dwelled within those billowing mists, he knew the dangers and most of all he knew that the Nest lay beyond them, waiting to be found at long last after six generations of futile searching.

"Good," Stoick said with a voice like thunder.

He continued to stare out towards the fog that hid his target from him. If he found Helheim's Gate, what would he find? Would he find the bones of his wife littering the floor? Why were the gods so cruel? They had taken his wife from him, leaving him with an infant son and no idea of how to care for him. _Foolish woman,_ he thought as he felt tears threaten to leak from his eyes. _You were so foolish, Val… Trustin' dragons… I always thought it would kill you one day… how I wished I was wrong._

He would avenge her, he would avenge the woman he loved even if it killed him. He could still remember the day he had fallen for her, the village outcast who couldn't stand the sight of dragon blood. She had a temper as fiery as dragon fire whenever confronted and mocked for her ideals, he could still remember Valka socking Mildew in the jaw when he made some bitter comment about her, knocking him flat on his arse with a broken jaw, he and Gobber had been laughing for days after that that incident. Even now the memory made him smile softly, if only a little wistfully at the thought of happier, easier times when Valka was still alive.

He fell in love with her, despite being himself and Valka being herself. They were complete and utter opposites, yet somehow completed the other. He was rash and bold whereas she was calm and collected. He thirsted for the blood of dragons whilst she preached of peace with the beasts. They were as different as night and day, but they loved one another with a passion that burned as strong as the sun.

That fiery love still burned within him, having never died out even when she was eaten by dragons fifteen years ago. He never took another wife, though many people expected him to, he wouldn't betray Valka in such a way. He loved her and only her. Even if Odin himself barred him from the great halls of Valhalla for not taking another wife, Stoick wouldn't have regretted it in the slightest. He had loved Valka; there could be nobody else _but_ Valka.

"Take us in," he told Mulch, who quickly aimed the Viking warship towards the fog.

They slipped into the ghostly fog, the cold moisture clung to Stoick's fiery red mane but he gave it no heed, for all he cared about was the devils that dwelled within the fog, waiting for them. He heard the soft chitters and growls of dragons hidden in the thick fog. Devils hidden in the darkness.

While some Vikings shifted on their feet and handled their weapons with nervousness, small traces of fear in their eyes, Stoick felt nothing of the sort. He never felt fear, for fear had burned itself out of him during that raid, when he was terrified for the lives of his son and wife. It was fear that made him choose between his wife and son, when he should have just buried his axe into the Stormcutter's neck and ended it there. But the flames that enveloped his son's nursery with a hungry greed couldn't have been ignored, he was afraid of losing his son and thus he didn't do what a chieftain should have done, kill the threat, and let his fear guide him to save his son.

He didn't regret rushing towards his boy; he loved Hiccup more than anything, though he didn't show it very well. Stoick only regretted letting that fear guide him, or rather control him, on that fateful night. If he had thought more clearly, maybe Valka wouldn't have died due to his carelessness. He should have realized that in those short moments, when he told her to hold on, that she wouldn't have even attempted to defend herself from the devil, for she didn't see the dragon as that, but as something that could be reasoned with. Fear had burned out of him that night, just as the fire had burned out Hiccup's nursery. He didn't feel fear anymore, the last time he had felt it was watching his wife being carried away in the Stormcutter's claws with Hiccup nestled in his arms screaming into the night. He had lost his wife that night, and Hiccup had lost his mother. Stoick honestly doubted he could ever feel fear again, not since that night.

All he felt now was duty. That alone kept him going, when all Stoick wished to do was break down and mourn for the woman he loved, taken from him far too soon.

A chief protects his own. His first duty is to his people_._

Even though he wished he could break down and just cry at the injustice of it all, he couldn't because Stoick had the duty to look after his people. He couldn't just be Stoick, a widower and father. He had to be Stoick the Vast, the chief who felt no fear, the chief who would protect them all, the chief who would save them from the dragons.

_This is for you, Val._ Stoick thought to himself as he gently pressed a hand against his helmet to straighten it and the other tightened around his trusty axe. She might be dead, but one day they would reunite in the halls of Valhalla and be together for all eternity. But for now, he must stay in the land of the living, for his duty to his people held him from reuniting with his beloved, departed wife. He would be the one to end the dragon threat, he would end the raids so no other loved ones would be taken, he would avenge those lost over the years. But most of all, he would avenge Valka.

And when dragons ambushed the ships, fire and flames raining down upon them as the devils attacked the Viking ships with animalistic, savage fury, Stoick felt nothing. He only did what he was best at, moving as though possessed by some spirit that guided him and his axe into the flesh of dragon. As he fought for his life, axe dripping with blood from his defeated foes, Stoick swore he heard the wind whistle a familiar, eerie tune. He closed his eyes tightly, the darkness in his eyes often flashing red from the fires erupting from dragon maws. Stoick could feel tears threatening to spill. He might not feel fear anymore, but he still felt that terrible pain in his heart. It had broken that night, his strong and mighty heart, when Valka was killed.

The wind continued to whistle in his ears, somehow heard despite the raucous cacophony of war cries and savage roars sounded by man and dragon alike. Stoick wept bitterly, tears hidden in the shadows of the fog.

Why did that song haunt him so? It was their song, a song of love that was once a way of conveying their beautiful love to one another. Now it was only a bitter reminder of a beautiful past that could never be relived except in his dreams, because when he awoke Stoick found himself trapped in a dark present.

And so, despite the terrible pain that it caused, Stoick began to whistle as well as the Viking chieftain of Berk fought for his very life, axe gleaming in the torchlight and slick with dragon blood. He whistled as he dealt deathblow after deathblow, severing Nadder heads in one strong stroke, gutting Gronckles that flew too close, stabbing Hideous Zipplebacks in their wretched hearts, killing anything and everything that had wings or scales. He whistled as he wept, the hot tears hidden underneath his shaggy beard.

_I'll swim and sail on savage seas…_

_With ne'er a fear of drowning…_

_And gladly ride the waves of life…_

_If you will marry me…_

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><p><strong>Well, how did you like Stoick's POV? I personally love Stoick, he's one of my favorite characters in this universe, and I really wanted to write him in this. A large majority of the chapters will be in Hiccup or Valka's POVs, so I really wanted to mix it up a little. I decided to write this for a reason, which was to show you that while Stoick in upcoming chapters, and even past chapters, will not be portrayed very favorable in the views of Valka and later on Hiccup, and that may appear as though I'm bashing Stoick for not being a good father to Hiccup. I am NOT bashing him in the slightest. <strong>

**Stoick is one of my favorite characters and there will be no bashing in this story, but I will be heavily criticizing him and his parenting methods. We all know that Stoick loves Hiccup, the second movie showed us how much, but in the first movie we never really see Stoick and Hiccup being close until the very end of the movie. I'm assuming that their relationship, while somewhat amiable, is mostly distant due to Stoick's responsibilities as chief and also because of Hiccup's lack of skill in anything considered important for a Viking. This does not mean that Stoick doesn't love his son; it's just that he can't properly show that fatherly love when Hiccup is a disappointing heir in Viking eyes. He's chief first and a father later.**

**So I wrote this chapter, not only to further the plot, but to also help you, the readers, understand that while Stoick is a loving husband and father, he doesn't know how to show it and that makes him distant. I want you guys to know that Stoick is never the 'bad guy' in this fic, but Valka and Hiccup won't really appreciate his distance and lack of attention towards Hiccup due to his responsibilities. I felt like a good reason for this was because Hiccup greatly resembles Valka, and I know that Stoick would have noticed that as well, so it hurts him to see his son and see his dead wife staring back at him, so that already creates a rift between the two.**

**Next chapter will be the confrontation, or rather talk, between Valka and Hiccup and man is it awesome! **

**So please write me a review, they are the lifeblood of this story. They are my motivation to continue writing this story and even taking a couple of seconds of your time telling me what you think about my story will make my day. Until next time!**


	5. Who Are You?

**For those of you wondering about Toothless and wondering why he and Hiccup aren't the best of friends, I want to tell everyone that the current timeline is quite literally a few days after Hiccup released Toothless and Valka showed up in front of him (For the exact time of this chapter, just go to the part in the movie where Hiccup first finds Toothless in the cove and drops his charcoal stick). Some of you have been saying that because I had Valka intervene when Toothless was about to roar at Hiccup derailed Hiccup and Toothless' relationship. I just want to say that I specifically had Valka intervene at that moment for two reasons.**

**1. Valka needed to be introduced sooner or later to Hiccup, and that seemed to be the best time in my opinion. Hiccup is aware as of chapter three that Toothless was not trying to kill him, but rather scare him off, but he is a bit afraid of Toothless at the moment but not because Valka intervened before Toothless roared at him. Hiccup grew up in an environment that was consistently attacked by dragons, so he will obviously be a bit wary of the Night Fury who has been raiding his home for years. I see this as a realistic way for Hiccup to view Toothless before they bond. Toothless and Hiccup **_**WILL**_** have an extremely close bond, even closer than in the first movie thanks to Valka's guidance, but that doesn't mean that they will get that bond overnight. From what I could tell in the movie, Hiccup and Toothless slowly gained each others trust and friendship in the course of several days or a week, but I think that the time duration is short due to the movie's time limit so I will make extensions and write chapters of them bonding (some chapters will just be Toothless and Hiccup bonding without Valka if people really want them) so that we can all get a good idea of their relationship. I love Toothless and Hiccup's bond, and thus I want to write it right so even if it takes several chapters before they completely trust one another, I am willing to write those chapters to make their bond strong. They wont just magically be the best of friends, they have to earn one another's trust like any other relationship. Just so you know, I've never written Toothless before this story, so sorry if I'm a bit OC in the next few chapters.**

**Hiccup only thought that Toothless was going to kill him when he was pinned down (he doesn't think that now as stated before) but when the masked lady 'saved' him, that made him trust her because he thought she saved his life, I did it so I could have a foundation on which Valka and Hiccup could grow a relationship. Think of it as hero worship. I did this deliberately so Hiccup would see the masked woman as not some crazy lady riding a dragon, but someone who saved his life. Hiccup hasn't had anyone care for him in the slightest, so when he realized this he will see it as a form of caring and that will make him trust the stranger because he has never had anyone really care for him. So even though he knows that Toothless wasn't going to kill him, he will still see the masked woman in a positive light instead of thinking she was some crazy feral lady.**

**This fic is a mother/son fic, the story will focus primarily on Hiccup and Valka reuniting and becoming a family once again. But of course Toothless is important in the story, because he's Toothless and just so freakin' awesome!**

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><p>Hiccup tried to speak, but it felt like his tongue was glued to the bridge of his mouth. He still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that those dragons were so content to be touched by the woman, like tame cats instead of fiery beasts that had raided Hiccup's village for six generations.<p>

"Who are you?" He finally managed to ask, suddenly feeling shy as he looked at her.

The woman in the mask tilted her head at that, as though pondering on what to say. "I am nobody of importance," she said to him, wishing that she could tell him who she truly was but unable to. If she told him right now, she wouldn't know how he would react. He might very well storm off and never return and Valka didn't want that. She wanted to be with her son, to know who he was. She wouldn't leave him ever again.

Hiccup snorted at that, "So I should just call you dragon lady?" he asked dryly with his normal sense of sarcastic humor.

She smiled though he couldn't see, "If you wish."

Hiccup glanced at the Stormcutter and Night Fury; Valka could see the small traces of fear in his eyes. It made sense, her son had lived in a world that had been the subject of dragon raids since before either of them had been born, of course he would fear them. She could still remember, before Cloudjumper had taken her away, that she had fashioned a small stuffed dragon for her son, who had been positively terrified of the toy and couldn't sleep for a week. Living on Berk with it's inhabitants would make anyone, especially a child, be sour towards dragons but Valka held faith in her son.

"They won't hurt you, Hiccup." She told him softly, trying to let him understand that the dragons behind her weren't monsters, but beautiful and gentle creatures.

Hiccup didn't look convinced in the slightest, "Are you sure because my head was nearly blown off by a Gronckle today-" He stopped suddenly, staring at her with narrowed eyes. "How… How do you know my name?"

Valka inwardly cursed herself for her small slipup, "I know who you are, son of Stoick the Vast." She told him finally, using the fact that Hiccup was Stoick's heir, no matter what those villagers saw, and that that information wasn't exactly unknown to others outside of Berk.

Hiccup seemed to deflate at those words, oddly enough he looked disappointed. "Oh…"

_He doesn't like to be reminded of his father, or perhaps to be compared to his father,_ Valka realized with a small frown. She remembered the night she arrived on Berk, how distant her husband was to her son. _Odin's ghost, what else have I missed in my son's life? Stoick… why is Hiccup like this? So scared and terrified of being ignored, I can see it in his eyes, he has no confidence in himself._ Her heart sank as Valka thought of this, she stared at her son with teary eyes hidden behind her mask._ My little boy…_

"Why did you save me from him," Hiccup jerked his head in the direction of the Night Fury, who was staring at him with unblinking eyes.

_Because I'm your mother, I will always protect you._ Valka thought to herself sadly. Hiccup couldn't know who she was, maybe in time but for now she was just some dragon lady he had found in the woods. "You let him go, Hiccup." She rubbed the Night Fury's jaw, who purred in contentment at the touch. "You're a Viking, but you let him go."

Hiccup looked away from her, his eyes closed as though pained. "I'm not a Viking," he said softly.

"No, you're not," Valka agreed with him. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, "You're greater than a Viking."

Hiccup swung his head over to look at her, green eyes wide in shock at the compliment. Nobody, and Hiccup meant _nobody,_ had ever complimented him before on not being a Viking, all of the villagers just sneered and whispered behind his back when he walked by, as though he couldn't hear them. Not even Gobber or his father had ever told him that he, Hiccup the Useless, was great. He felt something warm bubble within him, it took him a second to realize it was happiness.

"How?"

Valka leaned forward, the firelight gleaming off of her mask that honestly terrified the small boy, it was like looking into the face of some monstrous dragon. "You saved his life, Hiccup. You let him go. A Viking would never do that, they would have killed this beautiful creature in a heartbeat. Vikings believe that killing a dragon makes them strong, but in reality doing what is right is what makes a person strong. You're stronger than you think, Hiccup Haddock. Far stronger than you will ever know."

Hiccup didn't look convinced.

"Tell me, why did you let him go?" Valka asked her son, wishing to know why he had done so. He could have easily left the dragon in the ropes and run back to the village and forget the whole thing had happened, but yet he himself had cut the ropes that he had placed on the dragon.

"I couldn't kill him." Hiccup said softly as he gazed into the fire, thin arms draped tightly around his knobby knees.

"Couldn't or wouldn't?"

_Hiccup, you must understand what you've done. You have the gift that bonds us, the gift of dragons. You just don't realize it yet, but I will make sure you will,_ Valka thought to her son with determination.

"I was a coward. I was weak. I wouldn't kill a dragon!" Hiccup listed off what was wrong with him with an angry wave of the arms.

The mysterious woman leaned closer, "You said wouldn't that time." She pointed out.

Irritation erupted within him suddenly, he was so tired of being asked why he was so different, so he lashed out towards the woman, "Okay, whatever. I _wouldn't._ Three hundred years and I'm the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon!" Hiccup hadn't noticed that he had stood up as he spoke, turning his back to his mysterious savior as he did so, he didn't want her to see the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. He spoke so softly Valka had to strain her ears to hear him speak. "I didn't let that dragon go because I was strong, I did it because I was _weak_."

For a moment the only sound was the crackling fire and the breathing of the dragons.

And then the dragon woman Hiccup had met in the woods spoke.

"You're not the first Viking who wouldn't kill a dragon, Hiccup." Her voice was so soft, merely above a whisper. Hiccup turned around to glance at her, the woman was looking at the Stormcutter, a hand placed on his snout and masked eyes gazing up into the amber eyes of the Stormcutter. "I was."

Hiccup blinked at that, shock apparent by his wide eyes. "Y-You're a _Viking_?" He hadn't ever thought of her to be a Viking. Vikings were huge and massive people, but she was small and thin, like himself. She seemed to love and care for dragons whilst Vikings killed and hated them. It just seemed impossible for this dragon loving lady to share the same blood as himself, the blood of Vikings.

"I _was_ a Viking." The woman amended. "A long time ago… I was born in a village, just like Berk, that was constantly raided by dragons… It was a land of kill or be killed. I was ostracized by my people, all because I wished for peace with dragons instead of killing them. I believed peace between the humans and dragons was possible." She then chuckled sadly, "It was a very unpopular opinion."

Hiccup could see why, if her people were like Berk's people, than she really must have been an outcast, like himself. He wondered what his father would think if he said the same thing, that peace could happen between man and dragon. His father would laugh at him, Stoick the Vast didn't believe in peace, none of the Vikings did, all they believed in was war. She was everything a Viking was not.

She was just like him.

The thought made him dizzy, the breath literally knocked from his frail form at the thought of another outcast who couldn't, wouldn't, kill dragons. The thought that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so alone made him want to cry.

"And then one night, during a dragon raid… I saw a dragon break into my home, into my infant son's nursery…" the woman tensed as she said this, as though unsure on how to continue, Hiccup listened with rapt attention, eager to learn more about this woman. "I rushed to protect him, I was even prepared to kill the dragon if it meant to protect my son, it would have torn my soul apart to have done so, but a mother would do anything for her child." Valka glanced up at her son, who was watching with rapt attention, hanging on to her every word. "But what I saw was proof. I saw the dragon, _this_ dragon," she petted Cloudjumper's snout tenderly, "not attacking my child, but playing with him. He was rocking my son's cradle, as curious of the babe as my son was of him. It was there and then when I realized that I had been right all along, that peace was possible between dragon and Viking… but I was wrong." Hiccup tensed at that, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"When I saw Cloudjumper for the first time, I didn't see a monster. All I saw was a gentle, intelligent creature whose soul reflected my own." The woman continued to stroke Cloudjumper's scarred crown, the dragon's eyes were closed as he purred his contentment. "But just as I was about to approach him, my Viking husband appeared with an axe in hand." She sighed wearily as she remembered that night when Stoick appeared, ready to kill Cloudjumper. "He attacked Cloudjumper, most likely thinking he that he was trying to kill me and our son. He didn't stop to see the gentle creature that I saw, all he saw was a monster." She sounded so mournful that Hiccup wished to comfort her. "He attacked him, grazing his crown with his axe," she stroked the scar on Cloudjumper's crown with shaky fingers, the constant reminder that Vikings couldn't change, that her beloved husband couldn't change. "Cloudjumper took me away from my home that night, away from my husband… and… and away from my son." She chocked that last word out, her voice shaky and filled with sorrow and pain. "Cloudjumper never meant to harm me, he just thought that I belonged with him."

"Why are you telling me this?" Hiccup asked her softly, trying to see past the fearsome mask that hide his savior's face from him, the firelight flickered against the blue paint and seemed to gleam in the darkness.

"Because I trust you."

"Why? You don't even know me."

_I know you more than you think, my son._ Valka thought to herself, her heart pained that she couldn't reveal who she truly was to him. She might not be able to be his mother at the moment, but she could still become his friend and confidant.

She doubted that it would be hard to earn her son's trust and companionship. From what she had seen her child had no friends and nobody to talk to. His own people ostracized him, they shied away from him because they couldn't stand who he truly was. Vikings hated difference and Hiccup was about as different as one could get. If she continued to talk to him and listen to him speak, Hiccup would latch onto her and what she had to give, all the love in the world. A mother's love. Hiccup didn't have anyone else, his father was gone most of the time due to his duties as chief and even then Stoick most likely never had time for him. From what Valka had seen the night of the raid a few days prior, none of her son's age mates could stand to be in Hiccup's presence, much less talk to him. Valka could use this to get closer to her son, though she felt terrible doing so, using her son's isolation and status as a social stigma to her advantage.

Hiccup had never had anyone truly care about him, Valka knew just by looking at that desperate longing for companionship in her son's eye. She too had once had that look in her eye, until she found a companion in Stoick and then later on Cloudjumper. Hiccup yearned to find any sort of acceptance of who he was. He wouldn't find that on Berk, but he would find it with her.

When he realized that she was really the only one who didn't judge his differences, but rather welcomed it, he would return to the cove for longer periods of time, if only to feel that sense of companionship he was searching for. When he stayed longer, Valka would gain his trust and friendship and maybe even teach him a few things about dragons. He would slowly start to trust her, maybe even viewing her as a kindred spirit as he now knew that she had been an outcast at her own village when she was young, he just didn't know that it was Berk. Hiccup would see the similarities that she shared with him, the similarities that bonded them, and see that he wasn't alone, not anymore.

Stoick wasn't there to bring down his confidence and self-esteem, though she knew her husband didn't mean to do so, it was just that his expectations were for somebody that just wasn't Hiccup. She would build up her son's confidence that had been knocked down by the shortsighted villagers and help guide him into who he was meant to be.

Stoick wanted a strong son with beefy arms, a sturdy build and a bloodlust for dragon blood. He might love his son, Valka knew he did, but a chief of Berk could never love Hiccup, a small little boy with skinny arms, a frail build and a disgust for spilt dragon blood. Valka loved Hiccup for just being Hiccup.

She didn't care in the slightest that her son was on the smaller side, if anything he had taken after her in terms of build, Valka loved her son and who he truly was. She wouldn't force her expectations on her son, she wouldn't pressure him into becoming something he might not even want to be like Stoick was most likely doing, but she would be happy to give her son a guiding hand. A true parent guided their children into their destinies, they didn't force them like many Vikings did to their children by shoving axes and swords in their hands when they were children.

Valka knew that she wasn't the best of mothers, if anything she considered herself to be a terrible mother for leaving Hiccup alone for so long, but at least she knew it and accepted it. She knew this, despite the pain that the realization brought, and strove to correct the mistake she had made fifteen years ago when she had sworn to never return to Berk and the family she had left behind. She wanted to be Hiccup's mother, a true mother who was there for her son. She wanted to help her son discover who he was, she wanted to guide him into a better future for him. A future where he wasn't forced to become a Viking by his father and peers, but able to choose his own path.

_He may have a gentle heart, but he has the soul of a dragon,_ Valka thought as she looked at her son. She could already envision a future where she flew on Cloudjumper with her son at her side, flying on his own bonded dragon. She wanted her son to bond with the Night Fury; she knew that it was possible that they could have the same beautiful bond she shared with Cloudjumper. The bond she and the Stormcutter share was something so beautiful that she wanted her own son to experience it. The only way to describe it was that two souls connected to form one. The only problem was that the Night Fury was forever grounded; Hiccup could never fly with him. But she knew that while the Night Fury didn't fully trust her son, and she didn't doubt that Hiccup was still afraid of the dragon if only slightly, they had more than enough time to help guide them into a beautiful friendship. She knew it could be done, that her son and the Night Fury could form a similar bond, she had faith in them.

And… when she was ready and when Hiccup himself was ready to know the truth, Valka would finally tell her son the truth, that she was his mother.

Valka wanted to be in her son's life, she didn't want to return to her home without knowing if he was safe or happy. _Maybe… maybe if I can show him everything that Vikings know about dragons is wrong, when I tell him that I'm his mother and he accepts me instead of hating me for leaving him for all those years… I can convince him to leave Berk and be where he truly belongs, at his mother's side._

Valka wanted that future so badly it hurt. Hiccup was well on his way into becoming a dragon rider, he had the mentality to be one, he just needed to gain the Night Fury's trust first.

"Who are you?" He whispered to her again, wanting to know her name so badly it nearly hurt. He was curious by nature, far too curious for his own good really, but he wanted to know more about this mysterious woman before him who was more like him than he had first realized.

She didn't speak for a moment as though she was conflicted on what to say. And then her hands slowly trailed up towards the side of her savagely painted mask, slender fingers gripped around the hardened leather tightly. Hiccup leaned closer, mesmerized at the action. He watched as the mask was slowly raised, he saw a sharp chin, a slender nose that curved ever so slightly, eyes the color of the deepest of emeralds that stared into him with such power and wisdom it made him tense under her piercing look, auburn hair lowered unto her shoulders in three carefully woven braids.

She was beautiful, in a rough and outlandish way.

"My name is of no concern," she said, repeating herself like last time. "Only know that I've been watching you, Hiccup. I saw you during the last raid, I saw how your own people treated you as though you were a plague," her face seemed to crumple in weary resignation, the slight wrinkles around her eyes showing pain that made the boy wish to comfort her. "It reminded me of myself." She blinked at him, those striking emerald eyes cutting into him. "You remind me of myself, before I was taken by the dragons."

Hiccup stared at the woman, trying to make sense of everything she had told him. It was hard to wrap his head around the idea of another outcast like himself had existed, someone who was different and couldn't help it. Someone who wouldn't kill a dragon. He found comfort at that, as though some great burdened had been lifted from him, he didn't feel so alone anymore.

"What happened? After the dragons took you?"

She smiled at that question as she looked at the massive Stormcutter seated besides her, "Oh Cloudjumper never meant to harm me, he must have thought that I belonged with him. He took me back to his home, his Nest, and that has been my home for countless years." She stroked Cloudjumper lovingly as she said this, listening to his rumbling purrs with a chuckle before her face fell again, eyes suddenly so downcast it hurt to see someone so sad and full of regret.

The woman looked away from him, gazing into the firelight with teary eyes though no tears fell. "I never returned, not even to see the child I had left behind that night. He and his father nearly died that night, all because I couldn't kill a dragon… I thought that…" she swallowed heavily in both grief and regret, "That if I stayed away and let them think I died that night, I could protect them. If I stayed, I would only endanger my family due to my beliefs. I thought that if I stayed away, my son would be better off without me." She then looked at Hiccup, eyes locking into his with a look so strong it made him breathless. "A mother would do anything for her child… even if that means to not be there for him. For years I tried to forget of the son I had left, still in his cradle…" she looked at the small teenaged boy with a certain sweet bitterness in her eyes, "… But a mother never forgets."

Hiccup had never felt so terrible for another person in all his life. Usually all the pity was directed towards himself and his horrible ostracized life, but the woman's story struck at him deeply. He could tell that the dragon lady seated before him truly did regret never seeing her child ever again, even though she knew she was protecting him by staying away. Maybe because he had never had a mother to love him, maybe he felt he could relate to this woman and the son she had to leave behind.

"Do you know if your son survived the raid?" He asked her, trying to find words as he looked into her haunted eyes. There was something familiar about those eyes, that same look of haunting that plagued her, it was as though he was seeing himself within this woman just like he had seen in the Night Fury watching him from across the fire.

The woman's smile seemed to sweeten, less bitter and bit more happier now, as she thought of his question. "I suppose he did," she said softly, looking back at the firelight with a furrow of her brows. "He's probably forgotten me…" she smiled sadly, eyes full of wistfulness as she looked back at the boy seated before her. "It's not like I was there for it to be any different."

He wanted to comfort the woman, he didn't know why but he knew that this woman had never told anyone her story before. She had told him something very personal about herself, as though she trusted Hiccup with this information.

_She said that she trusted you,_ a small part of Hiccup reminded himself softly. _She's probably never told anyone this story before you._

There was something about that thought that made Hiccup smile ever so slightly in content shock. The woman's story truly was one fit for tragedy, but she had told Hiccup that she trusted him, _him,_ to know it. Nobody had ever trusted him with, well… _anything._

"Now," the woman leaned forward, the firelight flickering across her face. "I want the truth from you, Hiccup… why did you let the Night Fury go?"

Hiccup looked at the woman before glancing at the silent form of the Night Fury that was staring up at him with unblinking serpentine eyes. His face fell dejectedly as he spoke, "He reminded me of myself."

The woman cocked her head to the side, showing her confusion as she looked at him with unblinking eyes. Hiccup continued so as to not confuse her, "I wouldn't kill him, because he looked as terrified as I was. I looked at him… and I saw myself."

The woman shifted at his statement, back arched tensely as her fingers wrapped around the wooden staff tightly with a furrowed brow and a pained grimace twisted on her lips. She didn't seem pleased to hear what Hiccup said, though he didn't know why.

"You don't have to be a Viking to be happy, Hiccup," the woman whispered to him softly, "You don't have to be one of _them_," she said the last word as though it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "To find a friend, someone who understands you and cares for you, doesn't mean that you have to change who you are. If you do so, than you're just living a lie. It is better to find someone who understands and can relate to yourself, that is how true friendships are formed." She suddenly paused, hesitant, as though wondering on what to say next.

"You let this beautiful creature go," she rubbed the Night Fury's jaw lovingly, tracing the midnight scales with a gentle finger. "You could have killed him or left him bound in the woods, but you let him go. I told you that I myself couldn't, _wouldn't,_ kill a dragon when I lived amongst Vikings." She looked at him with a soft smile, eyes so warm they took Hiccup aback at their warmth. "You're just like me."

He blinked at her words, he himself had realized that he was similar to the mysterious woman seated before him. But to actually hear her say it and actually sound pleased… it made him happy. To know that there was someone else like him, someone different. It made him feel welcome.

It made him feel less alone.

"So, tell me about yourself."

Hiccup blinked at that in surprise. "W-What do you mean?"

She looked at him with confusion, a lone brow raised ever so slightly before she continued. "I know your name, I know your face, I know that there is potential within you, but I do not know you, Hiccup… I would like to know you," the woman whispered that last part silently, so soft he could almost not hear it.

"Y-You want to know about _me?"_ Hiccup asked bewildered as he sheepishly scratched the back of his head nervously. Nobody had ever asked him about himself. "Like what?"

"Your favorite food, favorite color, what do you like to do in your free time. Things like that." The woman in the mask said curiously, as though she actually cared about those things. Judging by her tone, she actually did, which made absolutely no sense to the socially awkward and ostracized teenager.

"Uhmm…" he scratched the back of his head nervously, for once in his life unable to think of anything to say.

The woman smiled at him softly, something about it made Hiccup feel calm and comforted. "I like to…" Hiccup furrowed his brows in thought, trying to figure out what he liked to do. If anyone else had been asking him this, Hiccup would have immediately lied and said training, practicing with his weapons, or maybe even dragon hunting. But this woman had trusted him with a piece of her life, it was only right to return the favor. "I love to sketch." He pulled out his leather sketchbook from the folds of his fur coat and opened it to a page that depicted a well-detailed sketch one of the monstrously massive Viking statures that acted like silent sentinels to Berk.

The woman stretched out her hand, slender fingers spread out as far as they could go, "C-Can I?" She asked him, suddenly looking nervous.

Hiccup wordlessly handed over his sketchbook to the woman. There was a brief moment of silence as the woman flipped through the pages of Hiccup's sketchbooks. The images were random, sometimes it was a sheep, another time it was sketches of buildings, some of them looked to be blueprints for inventions, but they all had something in common. They were very well done and greatly detailed.

"These are beautiful, Hiccup." The woman told him, glancing up from a detailed drawing of what looked to be a yak drawn with great attention to small details, he had even drawn individual hairs to make it more realistic. She had never seen such talent in drawing before.

Hiccup blinked at her kind words, not understanding for a slight moment that the woman was being sincere. He was so used to taunts and sarcasm that he had honestly forgotten what a sincere compliment was. He felt that tingle within him again, that feeling of happiness.

The woman leaned forward, face set with an anticipated smile. Hiccup realized that she was waiting for another thing he liked to do. He smiled despite himself, honestly enjoying the attention that wasn't full of anger, resentment or disappointment. This was nothing like his talks with the villagers, who mocked and belittled him, or his talks with his father, which was mostly just one-sided as his father never let him speak his mind. Because of those conversations, Hiccup was usually a bit bitter with sarcasm and dry humor, because if he didn't insult people than nobody would pay attention to him.

To be able to actually talk to someone who was actually listening… it was nice.

"I'm Gobber's apprentice. He's the village's blacksmith." Hiccup said shyly, still somewhat bewildered at the positive attention directed towards him.

He waited for the woman to laugh at him, telling him that there was no way possible that someone like Hiccup, what with his frail arms and short stature, could ever hope to become a blacksmith that had to be massive in strength and size to do the job. But she didn't laugh at him, instead her smile seemed to brighten as she asked him, "What do you there?" She sounded like she actually cared, as though his life was fascinating to her.

"I, uh, mostly sharpen weapons and fix shields. None of that heavy duty stuff, Gobber seems to think that if I try and do that, I'll either end up killing myself or someone else." Hiccup said as he twiddled with his thumbs, embarrassed at the realization that his own mentor didn't trust him enough to let him deal with important tasks. Granted, usually whatever Hiccup made in the forge usually ended badly, but that still didn't lessen the hurt.

"I'm sure you're doing a good job," the woman said kindly, there was no mocking in her tone, it was as though she actually respected Hiccup's job as apprentice blacksmith. Hiccup smiled shyly at her, suddenly seeing her in an entirely different light. This woman was so nice to him, nobody had ever really been sincerely nice to him before, not even Gobber or his father could count. She was so sincere and kind when she talked to him, she had told him a very important part of her life because she trusted him, the first person to ever trust Hiccup really, and was even having a civil conversation with him, instead of pushing him off to the side and ignoring him she listed as though he was actually interesting, as though she actually cared for him and his feelings.

Was this what it was like to have somebody to care for you?

Was this what it was like to have a… friend?

_Were_ they friends? Hiccup certainly hoped so, he had never had a friend before and he had always wanted one.

He remembered countless nights on the eve of Snoggletog, praying to the gods for only one gift. His only wish was to have a friend to play with, a friend who wouldn't pick on him, a friend that cared about him. His wish was never answered. All he got were daggers in his helmet and pieces of candy. No friend ever came, only a bitter disappointment as the child realized that he was all alone and would most likely always be alone.

But this woman… she was the same. She had told him a painful part of her past, something that he doubted she had ever shared with anyone. She had told him that she trusted him. She was just like himself. Different. People who were alike usually became friends right? Is that how it worked? By Thor she was even talking to him, _actually_ talking to him and she even seemed to enjoy it.

"What do you do?" He asked her curiously, wanting to know more about this mysterious woman sitting before him.

The woman blinked at that, as though surprised that Hiccup had asked the question, for a second there was a moment of panic when Hiccup though he had messed up, but then she smiled and all worry and fear that had bubbled within Hiccup's gut vanished instantly. "I normally don't live in the woods, for one." She said with a teasing smile making Hiccup chuckle at that. As though his laughter had emboldened her, the woman continued. "I told you that I was taken by Cloudjumper to his Nest. I've been living there for years amongst dragons. I've been learning everything there is to know about dragons, discovering their secrets. And I've been saving them as well," suddenly the woman looked angry. "Where I am from, far away from Berk, there is mentioning of a madman by the name of Drago Bludvist… he's trying to amass a dragon army and has his dragon trappers ensnaring dragons of all sorts. I've been trying to stop them."

"A dragon _army_?" Hiccup asked, aghast at the thought. Viking armies were already bad enough, but the thought of a dragon army was downright terrifying.

The woman nodded her head, looking solemn as she scratched her Stormcutter's blue-tinted chin. Suddenly all the warmth was gone from her, the visage of a kind and caring woman gone and in her place a warrior whose people, or in her case dragons, were under threat.

"I've done my best to stop him. Our Nest is full of dragons Cloudjumper and I have rescued, but there are many trappers out there and only I seem to be the one trying to stop him." The woman looked so solemn as she spoke, as though remembering dark memories of the past. "Drago is a madman." She seemed to realize that Hiccup was staring at her in horror and quickly spoke to calm his fears. "Worry not, Hiccup. Drago might have dragons under his rule, but I am not alone. It will take years for him to pose a threat to your village, that is if he doesn't fall to me." She thought of her Alpha, the king of all dragons that dwelled under the Sanctuary, who cared and commanded his subjects with gentleness but was capable of destroying even the greatest of armadas with his icy breath. If Drago ever tried to take her home and dragons by force, he would soon realize that _nobody_ threated with her dragons without losing their life.

"Have you tried talking to him? Maybe try to reason with him?"

Hiccup had never been a fan of conflict, despite his upbringing in a Viking village. He had always tried to find a peaceful way out of his situations, though mainly because he would get beaten up if he didn't. Maybe this Drago Bloodyfist could be reasoned with peacefully?

The woman laughed, but it was a short and bitter laugh. "There is no reasoning with Drago Bludvist. He's as cruel as he is mad," she suddenly looked crestfallen, "And the dragons under his command are just victims of his cruelty." She looked so mournful Hiccup wanted to comfort her, but didn't know how. "Good dragons under the control of bad people do bad things, Hiccup."

Hiccup looked away at that, suddenly ashamed that he knew nothing that happened outside of his village. He tried to imagine what his father would think of this Drago Bludvist, would he respect him with how he was capturing dragons, his father's sworn enemies, or would his father loath the idea of keeping the dragons alive instead of just killing them? The thought of a dragon army terrified him, mostly because despite the distance, it could one day arrive on Berk. He had forgotten that there was an entire world out there, Berk was just a small island in it. There was so much Hiccup hadn't seen.

"There's a whole world out there," the woman spoke as though she knew what he was thinking. "You've probably never seen it, what with living on Berk and all. But if you were to ride a dragon," she patted Cloudjumper's shoulder with a grin, "The world and sky is open to you."

_That sounds nice,_ Hiccup thought to himself wistfully, before he immediately shook his head at the thought. If the villagers ever found out he wondered at the idea of flying on a dragon, they'd hate him even more.

"You said that you've been living with dragons in their Nest, do you mean…?" Hiccup trailed off uncertainly, wondering if the woman's home was what his father was trying to destroy. If she was indeed from that Nest, then should Hiccup really be concerned about the dragons being captured if they were the same ones who raided his village and took their food?

The woman shook her head at that, auburn braids swinging. "No, I live in a different Nest a day or two's flight from here. The Nest your people are trying to find and destroy is not my own." She paused, suddenly looking cross as though remembering something that brought up a sour memory. "I assume that your father and people are searching for the Nest that has been raiding you?"

Hiccup's silence said it all. The woman sighed wearily, suddenly looking far older than she appeared. "Cloudjumper has felt her Call," she spoke as though to herself, staring up at Cloudjumper with distant eyes before returning to look at Hiccup. "Every Nest has its Queen, your Nest is no different."

"Queen?" Hiccup asked, intrigued.

"Aye, a Queen. They're massive dragons, though not as large as a King, the Alpha species of dragons. But Vikings would never stand a chance against a Queen, not even with all their strength and weaponry could they hope to defeat one. If your people do indeed find her Nest… she will kill you all."

The words themselves terrified Hiccup, the thought of a dragon bigger than a Monstrous Nightmare was something to fear. But he couldn't help but notice how the woman spoke about the chances of his people being massacred by this Queen, she was so distant and cold as though she was used to it.

Did she care about humans, or were dragons the only things she cared for?

He looked away from her nervously, suddenly feeling a bit sick to his stomach. His father was searching for the Nest at this very moment… if he found that Nest… he shuddered at the thought of his father facing this mysterious Queen, if what the dragon lady said was true than his father and people didn't have a chance. He felt fear creep into his bones, the thought of some massive dragon burning his home to the ground playing in his mind with startling clarity.

The woman saw the fear in his eyes. She suddenly blushed, pale cheeks tinged red, as though embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Hiccup. I didn't mean to scare you with the ideas of a madman and a Queen, I have forgotten that you're not aware of these situations living on Berk you most likely never get to leave."

"I'm not s-scared," Hiccup said hurriedly, wincing at the catching of his words. Now this kind woman would think him a coward.

She didn't say anything about his tone, if anything she only looked worse as though Hiccup's fear of the unknown had caused her as much pain, if not more. Hiccup, eager for a change in conversation to something lighter, asked her what she had learned about dragons throughout her years living amongst them.

The woman brightened considerably, eyes suddenly gleaming in the firelight as though the single question had ignited some furious passion within the lean woman. She told him so many things, Hiccup's head was reeling as she continued. He could barely understand her, she spoke so fast and so full of passion, but he did get some of the basics.

Gronckles, the dragons that had nearly killed him earlier, were actually gentle creatures if one approached them correctly. They rarely ate meat or fish as they preferred a diet of rocks and ore. Hiccup hadn't known that, he and practically every Viking in the world had always assumed that they were meat eaters due to being dragons.

Nadders loved to be stroked on the tail –though Hiccup doubted he would ever use that information, seeing as those tails were full of sharp spikes- and were curious creatures at heart. They apparently loved to play fetch, something about the chase excited them like puppies after a tasty bone. Hiccup tried to remember that, he would have to face the Deadly Nadder sooner or later, and he would very much love to come out of the Ring unscathed and with all limbs attached.

He didn't know how long he stayed by that fire, listening to the woman and her stories. She told him basic information about dragons, always insisting that dragons weren't the monsters people thought they were, just misunderstood creatures.

He didn't know why, but he was actually beginning to believe her. After all, she was proof that dragon and man could co-exist. The Stormcutter, Cloudjumper, seemed to be extremely attached to the former Viking woman whilst the Night Fury seemed to adore her, though maybe because she was always feeding him small strips of cod from her own meal. She seemed content with her life, having dragons as her companions instead of humans. He didn't see any fear of being alone in her, that haunting terror of eternal loneliness, if anything she looked very happy with her life. He wished he could say the same, but he doubted that even a dragon would want to befriend him.

He didn't realize until he looked up that storm clouds had begun to form, hiding away the rising moon from sight. Thunder boomed softly in the distance, but other than that the cove was silent save for the occasional huff of breathing from the dragons or the crackles of sap from the fire. When had the day turned into night? He was certain that he had entered the cove well in the afternoon, had they been talking for that long? "I should probably leave," Hiccup said softly as he realized that sooner or later –most likely later- people would start to notice that he wasn't in the village. He was surprised to feel sadness form in the pit of his stomach, as though the thought of leaving the kind dragon woman actually hurt him.

The woman looked up at him, face etched with a mournful sadness as well, though Hiccup didn't know why. "Aye, it's well past your bedtime." Something about that sentence made the woman smile slightly as though she found something about her words amusing.

"Can I… Can I come back, tomorrow I mean?" Hiccup asked shyly, looking away from the woman as though he was waiting to hear her say no, to hear her rejection like he had heard it so many times before.

He was surprised to see her smile, a warm and gentle smile that looked ready to split the woman's face. She nodded once, as though at a loss for words. She blinked rapidly before saying "Yes, of course." She looked so pleased as she said that, as though she truly wished to see Hiccup again.

"O-Okay," He said in a stunned tone. Nobody had ever wanted to spend time with him willingly, even though he himself had asked if he could return, it hadn't been the first time for him to ask someone if he could visit again. This was the first time someone had said yes though; all the other times had resulted in a hearty no. "I, uh, should probably go then." He slowly backed away, some force within him seemed to not want to leave the small fire and the woman who sat by it. _I don't_ _want to leave,_ Hiccup realized. _But I have to._

Hiccup was determined to return tomorrow, if only to just talk to the woman who was so accepting and kind towards him, a socially awkward and ostracized boy trying to find his place in a world that he wasn't welcome in.

He left the cove without another word, though he kept glancing over his shoulder to see the auburn-haired woman watching him from the fireside, watching him leave with saddened eyes. He hurried his pace, knowing that if he didn't leave people would begin to wonder where he had gone and what trouble he had caused.

_Goodnight, dragon lady,_ he thought back to her with a soft chuckle as he began to trudge through the forest as rain began to fall in thick, cold droplets.

Valka stared at the small opening to the cove; her heart lighter than it had been since she had first arrived on the Isle of Berk. _I will see you tomorrow, Hiccup,_ she thought to him with a small smile as she returned her attention to the fire. _Goodnight, son._

* * *

><p><strong>Some people may see Valka's way of trying to become closer with her son as a bit manipulative, but while that's what it appears to be, Valka truly does want to be with her son. It might be seen as manipulative, but she is just using the situation to her advantage. Hiccup has had no one ever really care about him and thus when he finds love and acceptance from Valka, he will want to return to her in order to find that acceptance, which is what his mother wants. Valka wants to be with her son and Hiccup just wants to be loved and accepted. Hiccup's social status as an outcast and his life of being ostracized in Berk plays a major part in this story, it is a huge part of Hiccup that will be explored later on and will be the driving force for Hiccup to bond with his mother and Toothless.<strong>

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	6. The Dragon Manual

Hiccup entered the Great Hall as the rain fell, his frail body drenched, and headed towards the only table filled with occupants. His age mates and fellow dragon killer trainees were already there, discussing the Gronckle fight with Gobber as they tore into their meal.

He barely listened to Astrid talking about her mistimed reverse tumble, saying how it threw off her balance and Snoutlout's pathetic attempts at flirting with the young Hofferson. He quietly grabbed his leg of mutton from the table, ignoring Snoutlout's sneer towards him as the larger cousin shifted so there was no room on the bench for him to sit with the other Viking teenagers crowded around one another, and quietly retreated to his own empty table, his back turned to the others as he focused solely on his meal.

"And where did Hiccup go wrong?" Gobber asked the assorted assembly of Viking teenagers, who immediately pounced on the question with gusto.

"Uhm, he showed up?" Ruffnut sneered out as her twin cackled out, "He didn't get eaten?"

"He's never where he should be," Astrid said darkly, remembering the Gronckle from earlier today.

"Thank you, Astrid." Gobber told the young Hofferson with a grin as Hiccup's fingers curled around his knife, knuckles white with anger. Back taut and tense, Hiccup tried to ignore the wave of frustration that erupted from within him, though he couldn't hide the gritted teeth as the others continued to talk as though they found personal joy in insulting him when they knew he could hear every word.

"You need to live an' breathe this stuff," Gobber said seriously as he stalked around the table, his peg leg banging against the cold stone floor. He pulled out a worn out leather book that had the sigil of a dragon on it. "The Dragon Manual," Gobber said as he tossed it on the table. "Everything we know about every dragon we know of." Gobber tapped his finger on the worn leather, as the teens looked at the Manual with wide eyes.

Outside thunder boomed as the rain fell harder than before, making Stoick's right hand man glance upwards towards the roof and the concealed storm brewing outside. Storms meant safety, as no dragon was foolish enough to fly towards their village when Thor himself was watching over them. "No dragon raid tonight," he said gruffly as he headed towards the huge doors as he gestured towards the book written by his ancestor Bork the Bold, "Hurry it up."

Tuffnut shot up from his previous slouched position to stare at the back of Gobber in shocked indignation, "Wait, you want us to _read_?" He sounded completely horrified, as though Gobber had asked of them the most horrendous of tasks.

"While we're still _alive?_" His twin Ruffnut said in complete disgust, lips curled before tightly pressing together in defiance.

"Why read words when you can kill the stuff the words tell stuff about?" Snoutlout demanded as he banged his hand against the table, making the platters clatter, though the son of Spitelout was completely unaware of his smaller cousin's huge eye roll from behind them.

_Maybe because if you actually know something, it might actually be useful and helpful?_ Hiccup thought to himself dryly, though he was smart enough to not say it to his short-tempered cousin who used to -and still did really- bully him.

"Oh, I've read it, like, seven times!" Fishlegs said energetically, speaking so fast and enthusiastic it got stares from the others. "There's this water dragon that sprays boiling water at your face, and, and, there's this other one that buries itself for like a week and-"

The large Ingerman quieted down when he saw the heated glare coming from Snoutlout Jorgenson and the complete blank looks coming from the twins.

"Yeah I was going to read that," Tuffnut began.

"Buuut now," Ruffnut said with a roll of the eyes and a devilish sneer.

"You guys read, I'll go kill stuff," Snoutlout declared as he heaved himself from the table and strode out of the Great Hall as though to prove his point and masculinity. The cackling twins and Fishlegs, who was still rapidly sprouting facts about some water dragon that could strip a Viking's flesh from his very bones, quickly followed him.

Hiccup realized with a jolt that he was now alone with Astrid. _Alone_ with Astrid. He couldn't help but feel hopeful that maybe he could impress his crush with his reading skills, surely some ladies saw that as a pro instead of a con, right? He hurried to her side, like a puppy begging for a treat, and tried to sound casual as he said to the girl he had a major crush on, "So… Share?"

Astrid heaved herself to her feet, not even bothering to look at him. "Read it." She said shortly as she hastened to the exit, leaving a disappointed Hiccup behind her.

"Uhh… all right then," he said after her, trying to hide the hurt and disappointment from her. "All right, wow, so okay, I'll uh…" he stopped his stammering when he heard the door slam. He hunched over in his seat in defeat. _Well that worked,_ he thought to himself dryly.

It seemed that in the afternoon of meeting the dragon lady, where he talked and someone actually listened and talked back, Hiccup had forgotten that back on Berk, nobody wanted to talk to him, much less listen to him. If he wasn't being given orders, he was having a one-sided conversation with his father who refused to let his son get a word in, if he wasn't talking with his father than it was with Gobber who was desperately trying to make sure that Hiccup didn't burn down the village and thus didn't have time to listen to Hiccup's problems.

It was rather sad for Hiccup to realize that a woman he had only known for a day was already ahead of his own father and mentor in terms of conversation. To be honest, Hiccup had felt more appreciated and cared for in one afternoon with a mysterious dragon vigilante lady than fifteen years with his own father and mentor combined, which really said something if one were to look at it.

When he realized that, it made Hiccup suddenly wish to return to that little cove where the woman was staying with the dragons. He had never had anyone to talk to, nobody who would listen to what he had to say. Hiccup knew that the woman wasn't toying with him, and his emotions by faking interest but that she actually cared about what he said instead of zoning him out like the rest of the villagers and his 'friends'.

She had listened to him with rapture, as though every thing he said was something that interested her, she wasn't being polite she was being complete honest when she said that she cared about what Hiccup said. It made him feel that tingle in his stomach again. Happiness.

The thought of returning to someone who actually seemed to care about him, someone who didn't seem to loath his very existence, someone supportive of him… it felt nice. Happy, even.

Hiccup had thoroughly enjoyed his time in that cove, hidden from the rest of the world and it's terrible expectations. For once in his life, Hiccup had finally received some answers to his questions, though some were vague as he still did not know the mysterious yet kind woman's name. The woman seemed to care about him, she seemed to truly care about Hiccup himself instead of Stoick's disappointing and troublemaking son who always needed to keep an eye on.

The thought of returning tomorrow left him completely giddy. The thought of returning to the woman and just talking to her almost left him lightheaded. In all his years of living on Berk he had never had someone to talk to who actually cared about what he said and even listened without tuning him out.

Hiccup had never had a friend before. Was that what they were, friends? He hoped so.

The dragon lady was just so kind and interesting, she didn't care that he couldn't lift a hammer or swing an axe. All she cared about was Hiccup, just plain Hiccup. Not Hiccup the Useless or the disappointing son of chief Stoick the Vast, just Hiccup.

Nobody had ever cared about Hiccup himself, not even his own father, Stoick the Vast. To everyone on Berk he was just a troublemaking runt who needed to learn respect and to get out of everyone's way. Nobody had ever cared about just Hiccup, everyone loathed him because he was just so different from the others.

But that dragon lady didn't seem to care that he was different, in fact she even _welcomed_ it. Nobody had ever told him that being different was good, everyone had told him that being different made him even more of a burden to his father and Berk. Before tonight, to Hiccup his opinion on being different was about the same as being cursed. Being different meant isolation from everyone else. Being different meant being picked on for being little and weak. Being different meant a life full of loathing and ridicule. Being different meant that nobody else was like you. Being different meant a life alone.

But while he was as different as a Viking could be, Hiccup had found something –or rather _someone_- incredible. He had found another person just like himself, different from what a true, perfect Viking should be. He had found a kindred spirit that understood what true suffering was, being different and everyone hating you for it despite it being completely out of your control. Hiccup couldn't control his difference, because being different was Hiccup's very nature, and everyone hated him for it. But that woman, she was just as different as he was, similar to him in ways that no one else had ever been, and she seemed content and even happy with her life, a life amongst dragons instead of humans, who she did not seem to care for. Yet, she had welcomed him with open arms, with soft smiles and kinder words. She had accepted him when everyone else before her had rejected him.

He couldn't wait to return to that cove. He still had so many questions and for once in his life he had someone willing to answer them.

Hiccup wanted to see her again. He wanted a friend, and for the first time in his life Hiccup felt like he actually had a chance.

Hiccup tried to focus on reading the Dragon Manual, but it held little interest to him. Aside from sketches and the names of the various known dragon species, the information was the same. Kill on sight. Deadly dragon. Kill on sight. This dragon can kill you faster than you could blink. Kill of sight. Kill on sight. Kill on sight. Every page in the Dragon Manual was the same, except for the lone blank page that held the title of _Night Fury_ on the very last page.

"Night Fury. Speed: unknown. Size: unknown. The Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself. Never engage this dragon. Your only chance… hide and pray it does not find you." He listed off the grim information about the very dragon he had shot down with a frown.

Hiccup knew how deadly a Night Fury could be, one only had to look at the towers and houses that had been destroyed over the years by the dragon's infamous bolts of purple light. But yet the dragon lady had been petting the –as the Dragon Manual stated- Unholy Offspring of Lightning and Death Itself as though it was a tame housecat. The Night Fury hadn't liked Hiccup in the slightest, something that actually upset a tiny piece of Hiccup, but the dragon seemed to adore the woman scratching him. He wasn't some mindless beast dead set on killing everything it saw that had a heartbeat. That Night Fury had let him live. He had let Hiccup go when he could have easily crushed him instead of letting him go.

According to the Dragon Manual created by Bork the Bold, one of the most respected Vikings in Berk's history, the Night Fury was an unholy demon who kills without hesitation. He seriously doubted that now that he had seen the dark, elusive dragon purring at the woman's touch. He knew that the Night Fury was dangerous to its foes, but to it's friends, such as the woman, he was harmless and even friendly.

That realization made him wonder. If Bork the Bold, one of the most respected and revered Vikings, was wrong about dragons, what else was he wrong about? If one of the greatest men in Viking culture, long revered for his infinite knowledge, was wrong about dragons and how they would kill anything in sight –which obviously wasn't the case concerning the masked woman and Hiccup himself- and that they must be killed on sight, could anything that Bork had said and written be trusted when he had so greatly misjudged dragons?

Was everything that Vikings knew about dragons… wrong?


	7. The Deadly Nadder

"Hey I, uh, just happened to notice that the Dragon Manual had nothing on Night Furies. Is there like another Manual or a sequel, maybe a little Night Fury pamphlet?" Hiccup ducked as suddenly his axe was blasted to molten pieces by the fire of the Deadly Nadder.

"Focus, Hiccup!" Gobber yelled down at Stoick's son from his higher vantage point in the spectator area of the Ring. "You're not even tryin'!"

Hiccup didn't hear his mentor, though mostly because he had realized that the bird-like Deadly Nadder that had spotted him. The two legged creature had scales the color of the sky, the lightest of blue, with splotches of red scales that looked like giant spots of blood. The dragon's mane was composed of yellowed spikes that rested on the dragon's head like a crown. As he darted around the corner of the maze constructed in the Killing Ring, he caught sight of the Nadder's spiked tail.

"Today is all about attack!" Gobber announced to the Viking teenagers located within the small wooden maze. "Nadders are quick and light on their feet, your job is to be quicker and lighter."

Hiccup was currently running for dear life, weighed down by his Viking shield the poor boy would have most likely been eaten by the captive dragon had the dragon not scented Astrid and hopped over the wooden walls to the blonde Viking girl.

Fishlegs, suddenly under attack by a barrage of spikes, screamed out to their 'instructor' that he was beginning to question Gobber's teaching methods. In which, there was absolutely none whatsoever.

"Look for it's blind spot, every dragon 'as one." Gobber said almost dully, picking at his fake tooth in boredom as though completely uncaring at the multitude of Viking teenagers under attack by a furious Deadly Nadder. "Find it, hide in it and strike!"

Hiccup paused from his desperate attempts of running away from the furious dragon and looked up towards his blacksmith mentor. "So how would one sneak up on a Night Fury?"

"No one has ever seen one and lived to tell the tale, now _get_ _in there_!"

Hiccup was ready to snap at his mentor, but Astrid whispering his name made him quiet. Astrid and Snoutlout were pressed against the walls, the girl peeking around the corner where the Nadder currently was. When she saw the Nadder look away, she quickly rolled past the opening and back to the safety of the walls ahead of them, Snoutlout following her lead.

Hiccup tried to do the same as his crush and cousin, but the heavy weight of the shield dragged him so he stopped rolling right in front of the Nadder's sight.

The Nadder saw him and screeched out a roar, rushing towards him with a gaping maw filled with razor sharp teeth and spikes bristled. Hiccup quickly turned around the corner, Snoutlout and Astrid having long since fled.

The Nadder appeared behind him, whipping its spiked tail menacingly as it stalked forward, pupils mere slit as it looked at the puny human before him.

Hiccup had no weapon save for his broken axe handle and a shield he could barely lift. He was completely defenseless against the creature.

Until he remembered the conversation with the mysterious dragon lady. She had mentioned something about Nadders… something that calmed them down. What was it?

_Think, Hiccup, think!_ He thought to himself as he raced throughout the maze, the Nadder still following him and getting closer. The son of Stoick didn't see any of his age mates; they were most likely within another section of the maze, not that he expected any of them to come to his aid.

Just like his entire life, he was alone facing impossible odds.

_Focus, Hiccup! You're not alone!_

He wasn't alone, not really, not any more. The dragon rider had claimed that she that she trusted him, that was caring in his books, and she had told him something about Nadders that could help him. He thought of all those conversations by the fire, listening to the woman and her stories with rapt attention, soaking in her words like a sea sponge. She had said something about Nadders… he only had to remember.

Hiccup suddenly cowered behind his shield, hiding his frail form against the hardened oaken barrier as several sharps Nadder spikes were impaled into the wood, sinking into the iron and wooden shield with ease.

Hiccup wanted to throw his axe handle in frustration. Why couldn't anything ever happen in his favor? He jerked back to avoid more spikes that impaled the ground at his feet as he suddenly remembered what the mysterious woman had told him about the Deadly Nadder.

To gain a Nader's trust you had to stroke it's tail until the dragon was calm, but Hiccup didn't need to earn it's trust, he just wanted to survive the day and get the Hel out of this cursed deathtrap of a Ring run by Gobber. She had mentioned that Nadders loved to play fetch, he had no stick but could his axe handle work?

"H-Hey!" He called out to the aggressive dragon, trying to sound brave when he was really a trembling bundle of nerves. What if it didn't work, what if the woman was wrong? He couldn't see Gobber due to the walls that enclosed him, pressuring him in. He was alone without any guidance from Gobber or anyone else with only the words of a mysterious dragon lady to help him. It was more than what he was used to though and so Hiccup took a leap of faith. "F-Fetch!" he threw the axe handle as far as he could, the adrenaline that was coursing through his body helping him throw it at a respectable distance.

The aftermath was instantaneous. The dragon's eyes suddenly dilated greatly, now no longer thin slits that showed its hostility. With a screech that sounded almost happy, the Nadder turned it's winged back to the chief's son and raced towards the axe handle.

Hiccup took this time to run for his life, dragging his shield laden with Nadder spikes with him in his haste to get away from the spiked dragon. _It worked!_ He crowed to himself in victory, reminding himself that he had to give the woman his thanks for most likely saving his life. He nearly crashed into Tuffnut, or maybe it was Ruffnut, as he turned around the corner.

The twin, he never could tell the difference despite the different genders, sneered at him and hurried around the corner with a demented cackle.

Safe away from the Nadder for now, Hiccup looked around to find Gobber inspecting the maze with an experienced eye. He took this time to speak up about something he had been wondering since Hiccup had first seen the woman fly with the Stormcutter. "Has anyone ever, you know, ridden a dragon before?"

Gobber looked at him as though he had grown two heads. "Those who were stupid enough to attempt it turned into nice burnt crisps for the beast. No one has ever ridden a dragon, no one will." He stated affirmably, as though he had complete trust in the notion that all dragons were evil demons.

_That's what you think,_ Hiccup thought to himself with a sulk. He felt anger rise within him directed towards Gobber the Belch. He might have been his mentor for blacksmithing, but the Viking's way of teaching dragon slaying definitely needed some work. Was he waiting for one of the teenagers to die in the Ring before actually helping them? He also couldn't help but feel angry at how close-minded his mentor was, how fixed in his ways the Viking was. He could never see Gobber changing his tune about dragons, he could never see the hulking blonde man with missing limbs ever riding a dragon. Gobber was a Viking, and a proud one at that. He would never understand. Gobber had never understood Hiccup. Nobody did.

Except for that dragon rider.

When he had talked to her, she had listened. When she knew about his life on Berk, how he was treated, she understood as she had gone through it herself before her dragon companion, Cloudjumper, had taken her away from her old life. It was sad to think about it really, that someone he barely knew was actually one of the few people he trusted and thought of with respect. She deserved his respect because despite her mysterious nature, there was something about her presence –how calming she was to him with her kind words and gentler smiles- that made Hiccup yearn to spend more time with her. To know more about her.

The past few days had made the boy really start to think about his life on Berk and the people who lived there. The villagers didn't care for him, the dragon rider did. She had asked him things about himself that nobody had ever asked. Even his own father had never asked him what he liked to do in his free time, his father most likely assumed it was training to build up muscle to be a more acceptable son. But that woman did, and she even seemed to love what he did that many would consider extremely unViking, she loved his sketches and admired his quick wit whereas the villagers found it annoying.

"_Hiccup!"_

This time Gobber's yell wasn't full of annoyance, but fear.

Hiccup barely had time to register the sounds of wood crashing and splintering, the harsh squawks of a furious Deadly Nadder, the shouting and screaming of his fellow dragon trainees before he heard Astrid scream out his name as something suddenly collapsed on him.

Whatever had fallen on him was soft and hard at the same time, cold and warm to the touch. His face flushed and his body burned in both embarrassment and pleasure when he realized that it was Astrid. Those feelings immediately disappeared and were replaced with terror when he realized it was _Astrid._

Astrid was yanking on his arm that was gripping his shield. Her beloved axe was stuck on the wood and she was desperately trying to free it. He could easily see why.

The Nadder had knocked over all the wooden walls of the maze, leaving the two Viking trainees in its sight. There was no more contentment in the Nadder's eyes that had been in them when Hiccup had thrown it the axe handle. All that he saw was a burning fury that was directed towards Astrid with hatred.

"Oooh, love on the battlefield," Ruffnut, or maybe it was Tuffnut, was sneering from beside the other twin along with Snoutlout and Fishlegs. None of them attempted to help them, even with the Nadder rushing towards them, they were content to take a little break and see how Astrid would handle the Nadder and how Hiccup would most likely get eaten as a snack.

"She could do better," Ruffnut, he thought it was Ruffnut, commented offhandedly.

Astrid looked furious, but even with all her fury directed towards him, Hiccup couldn't help but feel hopeful because even if she looked angry at him now, surely that would fade, right? Maybe if he showed her his sketches she would be like the lady in the woods and appreciate it or maybe she would just like his personality –it was much better than Snoutlout's at least-, maybe he could finally prove himself to her that just because he wasn't built like his father didn't necessarily mean that he was worthless.

Astrid tore Hiccup's shield from his grip, axe still embedded, as she swung it at the Nadder. The wooden shield reinforced with iron bolts immediately shattered against the Nadder's face, sending the dragon crashing into the ground with an indignant and hurt squawk. The Nadder rose to its feet shakily, pupils still thin but full of terror as it fled to the safety of its cage.

The ring was silent save for Astrid's heavy pants and the hurt squawks of the Nadder, all anger and rage gone from the scaled creature and instead full of hurt and fear of the Vikings that surrounded the dragon.

And then Astrid looked at him with a look so cold and full of fury it made him curl instinctively as though to protect himself from her rage. He shyly glanced around the Ring to see Snoutlout, the twins and even Fishlegs looking at him with those same cold eyes. He looked up to see Gobber shaking his head in disappointment. He realized what was wrong and it hit him hard.

He had messed up. _Again._

"Is this some kind of joke?" Astrid's voice was quiet but full of seething fury as she looked down on the terrified and paralyzed form of Hiccup Haddock with eyes full of contempt. The same eyes as the villagers. "Our parents' war is about to become our own…" She held her axe tightly in her hand, brandishing it before him, the tip nearly slicing his cheek as she spoke again with such open disdain and scorn it made Hiccup want the earth to swallow him whole. "Figure out what side you're on." She left the Ring furiously as the other Vikings teens flocked after her, leaving Hiccup alone in the Ring.

Hiccup slowly sat up, hands gripping his auburn locks as he resisted the urge to scream. Why_,_ _why_ was it that every time he did something, it just backfired and made everyone hate him even more? He hadn't even done _anything,_ it was _Astrid_ who had fallen on top of him, and it was _Astrid_ who had gotten her stupid axe stuck in his shield. Why was nobody yelling at _her_ for messing up?

_Because she's Astrid Hofferson, the greatest warrior in your generation who will win the honor of killing the Monstrous Nightmare before the whole village without so much as a struggle and you're just a little hiccup. A runt. A useless runt who can never do anything right,_ he thought to himself, almost apathetically as though he couldn't comprehend it, because he had heard it so many times from both himself and the Vikings with their terrible taunts and whispers and had just gotten used to it.

Gods, it hurt.

The Ring was empty when he finally looked back up with teary eyes. Not even Gobber, his own mentor, had stayed around to console him and tell him that Astrid was wrong about him, but he wouldn't have expected it anyway, even from Gobber. Nobody on Berk truly cared about him, they just assumed he was useless and a troublemaker all because he was born different from the others, smaller but smarter.

He slowly stood up on shaky feet and began to head to the exit. As he passed through the small tunnel, he paused when he saw the village before him. Astrid's words were still playing in his mind, over and over again like a mantra.

"_Figure out what side you're on."_

The thing was, Astrid had been right when she had spoken to him in what she had assumed to be heated jest. Astrid didn't know that some dragons were different from the ones that raided Berk. He remembered the Stormcutter, Cloudjumper, and how the dragon lady had stated that he was her greatest companion and friend. Astrid and the others would never believe that such a thing could exist, a friendly dragon. To them all dragons deserved an axe to the face. They didn't know, but Hiccup did.

He had found an entirely new world the night before, a world where dragon and human coexisted in peace. A world where his size didn't matter, only his wit and heart. A world where the woman had said he could find his place and be respected. A whole new world full of possibilities.

He liked that world a lot better than the world presented before him right now, the Viking world.

He didn't know what side he was on though. Would he remain on Berk's side, or the side of the dragons? He didn't know too much about the mysterious woman to make such a life changing decision. He couldn't decide yet. Astrid had said that the war that their parents fought in was about to be their own, but Hiccup's mother had apparently been against the war before her death. She hadn't thought that the war needed to be fought, but that peace could reign instead of more death and bloodshed.

The dragon lady had thought that too, now that Hiccup thought about it.

Hiccup had to wonder that if his mother was still alive, would she agree with the mysterious woman who lived with dragons? Would she like the idea of her only child trying to learn more about dragons themselves instead of how to kill them? The villagers all said that his mother didn't like the sight of spilt dragon blood, she didn't like the killing, and honestly he didn't like it either. The dragon lady didn't like it, just like his mother and himself.

_Maybe if I learn from that woman… I can follow in my mother's footsteps,_ Hiccup realized as he looked at Berk from the entrance of the Ring. _I can do what she did and not kill dragons. Sure she only protested the fighting and never had the chance to realize that she was right, that dragons can be peaceful, but maybe I could make her proud by doing the same. I need to give dragons a chance, just like my mother did. Would she be proud that I let the Night Fury go? Would she be proud of me, even though I'm so small? Would she be proud that I don't want the fighting to continue, but for it to stop?_

Hiccup hoped so, he truly did. He had never known his mother, had never known a mother's love or even a father's love. He had been alone since his mother had died when he was a baby, his father never had time for his disappointing fishbone of a son. But maybe if he did this… he could make his mother proud as she watched from the Halls of Valhalla.

After all, what did Hiccup have to lose?

He had nothing holding him back from rushing back to that cove where the mysterious dragon lady was currently living in with her Stormcutter and the Night Fury. It wasn't like anyone would notice he was gone, nobody really cared about the little hiccup causing trouble. His father was gone on yet another search for the Nest and wouldn't be back for several weeks if the winds were strong and the fleet wasn't completely annihilated. Nobody was waiting for him back at home in that empty house. Gobber was too busy training the other respectable Viking teenagers to notice that his charge wasn't in the village. He could die and nobody would notice.

It hurt, but not as much as before.

Maybe because Hiccup realized that the dragon lady would notice if he died, he was supposed to come back today and she actually seemed excited to see him. She noticed him when nobody else had.

That thought made him pleased.

He had to give her something, something to prove to both himself and to her that he wasn't useless. She was so nice to him last night, she asked about him and what he liked to do, she actually seemed to care about him. He had to give her something, a gift, just like how she had given him a gift. She had given him the gift of companionship, and for someone who had never had a friend or anyone to care about them, that was the greatest gift of all.

He had to go to her. He needed her kind words and tender smiles. He didn't want to be in Berk for anymore than a second, where all there was were harsh words and sneers of contempt.

But first he had to get her something.

He rushed to his house, stumbling into Vikings in his haste as he raced through the narrow streets. He ran into his house and slammed the door before heading to the kitchen. He grabbed a whicker basket and hurried to the pantry, grabbing everything he could reach. Bread, fruits, meats, fish, anything he could grab he stuffed in the basket.

He ran out the empty house with the basket held in his arms, clutched tightly to his chest. He raced through the forest, trying to not trip on anything in his way. He knew the way to the cove from his many adventures during his childhood. The woods had always been a sanctuary for a little boy with no friends to call his own. He knew his way around the place with great clarity.

He raced towards the cove as though chased by demons, though it was really the bitter existence of his life on Berk that truly drove him forward. He ran from it, tripping all the way, as though to escape. He ran to escape Astrid's words, to escape the reminders of his isolation by his own people, he ran from the contempt in the eyes of those who called him Hiccup the Useless, he ran from his life. He ran from everything.

The only thing that kept him going, the only thing that prevented him from falling to the ground in despair, was the thought of the dragon lady. The only one who had ever cared about Hiccup, despite only knowing him for a few days. The only one who had never looked at him with contempt, never once ridiculing him, never once judging him. The only one who had accepted him.

She was what was giving him the strength to run, she was what prevented him from breaking as he ran from Berk. She and a whole new world of possibilities. A world where he could find a friend and companion with a dragon, hopefully the Night Fury. A world where he could be accepted, instead of rejected.

Was it odd that a woman whose name Hiccup did not even know, a woman who he had only truly known for only a day or so be so important to him?

Perhaps it was, but Hiccup didn't mind it.

All his life he had wanted acceptance, he yearned for it –_craved_ it- but despite his many attempts –failures- to find that acceptance with his agemates or other villagers, he had never found it. All he had found in Berk was bitter resentment and ridicule, all he found was an empty house to go home to, cold and bare of anything that resembled a family. All Hiccup had found was a life so desolate it was rather pathetic, just as pathetic as everyone believed him to be.

But now?

Maybe life was finally looking up. Maybe Hiccup had found what he had been looking for all his life, acceptance and companionship. Maybe finally Hiccup had found someone willing to know him, to accept him and maybe even teach him.

Hiccup kept running, never stopping, towards the cove.


End file.
